


Everything Happens For A Reason

by DaysToCome



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Clumsiness, F/M, Fanfiction, Gaming, Music, Neighbors, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, VidCon, YouTube, clumsy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7970356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaysToCome/pseuds/DaysToCome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>YouTube wasn't exactly what she had in mind but she regrets absolutely none of it. A short girl with extreme anxiety and a knack for special effects, music, and gaming gets into a life she never expects. She moves to LA by herself to give herself move opportunities after living in London for two years. Even if this isn't going to university and getting into game design, she knows that everything happens for a reason. She wouldn't change this for the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One ~ New Country, New Apartments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an eleven and a half hour flight, it's nice to be on the ground again.

I suppose the saying 'everything happens for a reason' is true. I mean, I didn't get accepted to the university that I wanted out of high school but that's what made me move from my small, Ontario town to London, England. There was a program offered there where they needed an amateur special effects artist that I wouldn't have accepted if I got into the school. If I didn't move there, I wouldn't have started a YouTube channel to post tutorials for FX makeup, followed by some vlogs and covers. If I didn't start the channel, I wouldn't have gotten the subscribers I have and I wouldn't be moving to LA so I can work on my music more. Like I said, everything happens for a reason. 

"Wow," I mutter to myself as I look out the window of the airplane that is about to make its descent. After a long, boring, ten and a half hour flight, I’m glad to see the ground again. Sure, it is a strange place that will, undoubtedly, set off my extreme anxiety but I will get use to it at some point. My stuff was sent to my new apartment two days before this flight so it should be there by now if not, later tonight. There shouldn't be anything too overly worry about right now. 

It’s about one in the evening and the streets are filled with cars. The people wandering around look more like ants, most likely getting their Wednesday shopping done. The intercom comes on, the pilot telling us that it is sixty degrees Fahrenheit. It’s a nice temperature for mid summer in my books, though the middle aged man beside me mummers something about it being 'too cold'. He must be returning here because London was only fifteen degrees when we left. Even though it’s still light out here, it’s about nine in London and we left at eleven in the morning. It's not that early but I had stuff to do before my departure so I was up at seven in the morning. Then again, it was my fault that I didn't fully have everything ready. I'm still going to miss London. 

The plane's landing finally hits the runway and I can’t seem to stop the smile on my face. I’m actually in LA. Everyone slowly gets off the plane and while I wait for my turn I braid my long, dirty blonde hair to the side. I finish just in time for me to grab my bag out of the overhead compartment, I put on my blue Zelda beanie and go on my way. I don’t need to wait for baggage since I only have my small suitcase and purse. I sent everything else with the movers. Many people meet up with family, hugging and some crying. I do feel a bit sad; I know no one who lives here. Don't get me wrong, my parents and my sister are still in Canada. I love them but I haven't been able to visit in awhile. 

When I reach the exit, I hail for a taxi and head for my apartment. I get really confused at first because everyone is driving backwards but get back into the rhythm. I laugh breathlessly at myself, wondering how long it would take me to get out of my UK habits. I stutter when I tell the driver the address, though he gets it anyways. I’m really nervous but have little to no regrets in the choice to come here. 

I pay the man and grab my bag as we pull up to my apartment complex. The anxiety from the flight and jet lag is starting to wear down on me but I want to get myself into this time zone before it screws everything up. I quickly grab the key for the front door of the building and make my way inside. It is actually pretty nice. Mail boxes are inserted to the wall on my right, a little sitting area on my left, and an elevator in front of me. There isn't anyone currently in the lobby, which is kind of a relief. I don't think I can handle confrontation right now. I hadn’t expected anything special since it is a rather small building. Then again, the rooms are apparently a lot bigger than other buildings and for a good price too. 

I don't usually like to take elevators but it would be very difficult to take my suitcase up the stairwell. When I get into the small space, I click the button for the third (out of five) floor. I'm not necessarily claustrophobic but I am agoraphobic, meaning enclosed spaces are not my strong suit. I tap my foot onto the ground before the elevator finally opens at my stop.

I take in the sight of the halls as I make my way to apartment 3-5. Apparently there are only six apartments on each floor, though that should mean there isn't as much noise. The lights are off since it's early enough in the day to just let the windows from the ends of the hallway do the job. The floor is a plain wood that looks clean enough, though the grey wall paper seems like it can use a new style. Overall, it looks pretty empty. Then again, everyone's probably at work or hanging with friends. 

I finally make it to my door and open it up with the other key on my nes controller chain. The room opens up to a small hallway that leads to the living room area. To the left of me is a coat closet with a sliding door on it. The walls are a very light beige, though not light enough to be mistaken for white. There's grey carpet until the hallway opens to the living room, which turns into wood flooring. The living room is a nice size, definitely big enough since it's just me living here. It's going to look nice with everything placed in here and not just a bunch of my boxes. 

Off the living room is a kitchen, another closet, and another hallway. Straight down the hallway is a bathroom, which is hopefully fixed since I was addressed on the issue. I was promised that it would be ready in time for my arrival. On the left side of the hall is the main bedroom and to the right is the guest bedroom. I was going to get just a single bedroom but with the price being really good and the fact that it gives me the convenience of a recording room, I decided it'd be fine. The only problem was the bathroom and the last resident moved out because of noise. 

'The man next door can be a bit loud and the walls are pretty thin but the ceiling and flooring are basically soundproof.' The renter informed me over the phone. 

'Like, h-he has a lot of s-sex?' I felt embarrassed even asking the question but it is something that made me very awkward. If this guy has that much sex, I'm out. 

'No but the apartment beside the open one is a reverse of that one. Meaning the guest room, main room, and bathroom are back to back. He, um, he can just get loud from something about 'rage'. I have no clue.' 

'Oh,' Of course, I was just as confused about this as he was. I mean, he's probably talking about video game raging but it makes me wonder why it happens so often. I decided that a little noise wasn't going to drive me away from such a nice apartment. I decide pretty quickly to save setting up my recording stuff to tomorrow and just work on my bedroom today. I mean, I have some videos pre-recorded so if I miss a recording I'm fine. Even so, I need a place to sleep. 

I open the door to my new room and smile. The walls are a nice light blue and the tiled floor will be great for my rug. My dresser, bed, and bookcase are all leaning against the far right wall, away from the closet. Putting my bed back together is going to be difficult to do by myself, though I should be fine. I look in the corner to see the dark blue rug that I'm searching for. Luckily the movers put it somewhere that I can easily see or I'd be looking for it all day. I quickly put it into the position I want, happy that it covers most of the room. 

I begin to put the boxes into my closet for now seeing as I need to move my furniture before I can put anything away. After two hours, I finally put my bed against the far right corner, dresser onto the far left corner, and my bookcase at the end of my bed. Making a mental note to buy myself an end table and a multi-drawer storage container at some point, I decide to go buy groceries before it gets too late. 

It takes me until five before I'm back at home, arms loaded with groceries. I never bothered to buy a car while in the UK since I took the subway and buses to where I needed to go. I still probably won't get a car, I just need to get myself a carrier for bags. By the time everything's in the proper position, I feel like I'm going to pass out. I'm too lazy to even do a time change to see when it is back in London but it's eight here and I just want to collapse into my comfy bed. Okay, I've gotten a lot done. I'll make myself some Kraft Dinner then head to bed. 

That's what I do. It takes me an hour to figure out which box my pots are in, what temperature to put the stove element on to, and to eat. Sleeping feels odd in this new space, though I know it will pass in the next few days and having to put my glasses onto the back post of my bed is a bit unnerving. Sometime during the night, around one in the morning, I heard the loud creak of a bed coming from the other side of the wall but I ignore it.


	2. Chapter Two ~ A Bloody Severed Hand And A Lack Coordination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unpacking is boring but must be done!

Waking up the next morning isn't really great. The jet lag is really bad even if it's already ten here. I guess I should probably record a vlog. After I get dressed that is. I quickly find an outfit inside the suitcase I brought with me on the plane and get dressed for the day. I still have my camera packed away in one of my recording room boxes so my phone will have to do. I put on front camera and fix my hair before beginning to record.    
  
"Hey guys! For those of you who don't know, I'm DaysToCome and I just wanted to give you guys a little update. I've made it safely to LA, which is great. My apartment is really nice but I only have my bed room set up right now which means that I'm going to be using pre-recorded videos for the week. I have one automatically set up to upload later today so watch out for that." I walk out of my room and head to the living room.    
  
"I actually have the Internet guy coming in at around four to hook that up. I did get unlimited internet meaning I'll still live stream like I usually do. Other than that there's nothing overly productive going on. I'll give you guys a full apartment tour when I finally get everything up. Anyways, that's all for now. Have a great day everyone!" I smile and wave before shutting the video off. I begin the upload on my phone with my data as I start unpacking everything in the kitchen. I really need bowls, plates, utensils, and everything else.     
  
While I organize I sing Stomach Tied In Knots by Sleeping With Sirens to warm up my voice like I usually do. I probably should have done this before recording my update but that's okay. I'm sure everyone will understand why I seem really out of it. With a flight like that, of course I would be. I finally finish and I'm pretty proud of how organized it turned out. I didn't even accidentally cut myself while putting away the knives. Leaning against the stone top counter, I try to figure out what to unpack next. I still need to get everything together in the living room, my recording room, and the bathroom.    
  
I've come to realize that there's always one thing in a project that I never want to do and I push out for as long as possible. It doesn't matter if it's a drawing, a song, or washing a certain type of dishes. This time it seems to be the living room. Something about moving a bunch of heavy furniture on my own doesn't sound very appealing. Then there's the fact that I'll probably decide that I need to change it because it's not where I want it to be. The bathroom seems like the least amount of work right now.    
  
I take a quick look at my phone to see that the video's uploaded before scouring through the boxes in the living room. It takes me a good few minutes until I find two medium sized boxes labeled 'bathroom'. I grab the first box and bring it to where it belongs. Luckily enough it's the one with my shower rack. Carefully, I set up the rack in the back right corner of the tub. I got it a long time ago and the three little bar shelves come in handy for holding everything. I hum quietly to myself as I pull out my shampoo, conditioner, and everything else. It all fits nicely into place just like it did back in London.    
  
I flatten the box and put it in the pile of the others in a corner of the living room before grabbing the other one. This one has everything else in it. I take out my random medicines (for headaches and such), placing it in the compartment behind the mirror. The rest of the box is filled with deodorant, spare toothpaste, a spare toothbrush, floss, soap, and some nail clippers. Everything else I need in the bathroom is in my suitcase, which I'll get out later.    
  
I can't help but feel relieved when that's done. It's so boring to unpack. I honestly just want to leave it but I know if I won't do it, it won't get done. With that in mind, I decide to take on the task of setting up my recording room. I open the door of the spare room, groaning in distaste at the huge amount of boxes. I have two large boxes that are filled with stuff that fans have given me, another two large boxes with my recording gear, one with my computer tower in it, another with my two screens in it, and a few more. This isn't including setting up my really tall bookcase, my desk, and my shelves.    
  
I look around and mentally plan out the room layout in my head. Okay, if I put my desk against the right wall I won't have to worry about the door being in the shot. I can then put my bookcase in the far left corner so that is in the shot with the fan stuff on it. I need one shelf above my computer and the other two on the left side of the wall with the door on it. I don't need to set up my piano until I want to use it meaning I'll keep it in the corner to the left of the door but I'll put my guitar stand next to the bookcase. My ukulele and violin can be put on the bottom shelf of the bookcase.    
  
I nod my head to myself and set up my desk. It doesn't take me as long as I expected, maybe about a half an hour. When I first got the thing, it took me two hours to just understand the instructions. It's worth it though. The desk has a nice wooden top with metal bars as legs and even has two drawers on the left side. Not to mention the little upper part on the left, hugging the wall, which is great to put drinks on while keeping it out of camera range. Even with that done, the room is absolutely filled with boxes. I hear a scream from the room on the other side of the wall, making me jump in surprise.    
  
"Oh shit! No, no, no! Get away from me you monster!" The yelling is followed by another scream and laughter. I guess that's what the guy meant when he said the neighbor can get loud. I shrug it off and hear some more talking, though it's almost completely muffled by the wall. All I can make out is something about being dead. Probably a video game. I head over to one of the boxes to see if my tower is inside of it, cursing myself for labeling all the boxes as 'spare room' and nothing more specific.    
  
I slowly open the box and scream as I see a bloody severed hand. My brain goes into full on panic mode as I step back to get away from it. What I forget is that there's a box right behind my ankle. I scream once more as I trip over the heavy container and feel the air wiz passed me as I fall. A loud thump echoes through the room as I land on my back, luckily not hitting my head. Pain shoots up my back and I groan, finally feeling the shock wear off. I sit up slightly and look around to see that everything's fine. As I think about it, I remember the hand is actually a prop I made for one of my special effects makeup tutorials.    
  
"God fucking  _ dammit _ ," I moan, annoyed that I didn't realize before screaming and tripping. I stand up, luckily unharmed and close the box, shoving it to the far wall of the room. Hopefully it won't scare me next time I open it. Just to be safe I grab a sharpie from one of the desk drawers that I had taped shut and write 'warning: hand' on it. I look down at the box that I just tripped over and slowly begin to open it. As I'm about to throw the top open, I'm startled by a knock on the left wall. I fall back onto my butt and catch myself pretty easily. Good thing this floor is carpet or else I'd probably be really injured by now.    
  
"Knock back if you're okay!" I hear someone shout. Standing up, I slowly walk to the wall the voice is coming from. For some reason, I find the tone familiar, though I shake the thought off. I give the wall a single knock, probably just hard enough for it to be heard. There's a second pause before the voice returns.    
  
"Alright, stay safe!" With that, everything goes pretty quiet again. Aside from the occasional muffled conversation. I'm glad that I don't actually have to interact with my neighbor because of my social anxiety. I have no doubt that the guy is probably really nice but I know I'll screw up and make a fool of myself somehow. I'll stick to just hearing muffles through the wall. I sit back down on the floor and reopen the box I tripped over. I sigh in relief that it's just some fan drawings and not something breakable. I take out the sharpie once more and write 'art' on it before grabbing the box beside it. Luckily this one has my tower in it, completely unharmed by what I can tell. I slip my tower under my desk and plug in the cords I can.    
  
Another reason I chose this spot for my desk is that there's a power outlet there. I also have a power bar in the same box with my tower, meaning I just need to plug everything in. Alright, I have a three in ten chance to pick one of the boxes I need. I open the one right next to my desk and mentally cheer at I find my two monitors. Setting up takes two or three hours but I'm so proud of myself when it's done.    
  
As I turn on my computer, I'm happy that there aren't any error messages. I really don't want to open up my tower and attempt to figure out what was thrown loose or is even broken. I even found my laptop that I padded up to the max and it turned on completely fine. I know that the movers that helped me are really kind people but everyone makes mistakes. I hear a knock on my apartment door and get up to answer it. I look through the peephole to see a man wearing a baseball cap with the Internet company logo on it. Good, my neighbor didn't just decide to check up on me or come over for introductions. I’m also guessing that the front door for the building is propped open to let in air or else the guy would have phoned me so I could have buzzed him in. I unlock the door and open it, half smiling at the man.    
  
"Mrs. Hails?" I nod my head at the man in his mid thirties and move out of the way to let him in.    
  
"P-Please, call me Cassidy." I insist, not wanting to feel old. I'm only twenty and when people refer to me like that, I feel like I'm forty. I close the door and wave the man into my recording room. I found a connector for him to put the router into, which means I don't have to have a cord going from the living room all the way here.    
  
"Alright, I should be out of your way in fifteen minutes or so." I nod and head to the living room. As much as I hate it, I have to get this set up. I grab my television stand and drag it over to the right wall with a little difficulty. I then carefully lift my 32 inch television on top of it. Despite my clumsiness, I don't drop it. Unexcited, I look at the couch that's under the window on the far wall. I need to move it to the left wall across from the tv. I grab the right armrest and begin pulling it, trying to find the proper position to move it in. It inches slightly while I put almost my full weight into it. I am a 5"1 girl that doesn't work out, of course I'm going to have difficulties.    
  
"Would you like some help?" I yelp in surprise and accidentally let go of the couch, falling onto the floor for another time today. I quickly gain my footing again and look at the Internet guy, who’s smiling in amusement.    
  
"I-If it's not a bother. I-I just need to move it over there." I point to the wall across from the tv. When I'm around people I don't know, I stutter. It's annoying but it's something I've learned to deal with. The man smiles warmly at me.    
  
"It's no problem at all." He assures me and takes the other end of the couch. I guess I should call it a futon, since that's what it is. The guy even helps me move my coffee table to in front of my futon before leaving me on my own once more. I guess that didn't go as bad as I thought. The rest of the day goes uneventful as I hang pictures, set up my gaming consoles, put away games, and simply getting the boxes out of the way. I also eat lunch and supper between everything. Soon enough it's eleven at night and I head to bed once more. Normally I would watch YouTube videos but I'm so tired that I just want to sleep for a year. That might be a bit worrying if I actually did though.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slow chapter but the next one picks things up a bit, I promise! I don't know how often I'll be uploading chapters because I have a bunch of other personal books that I'm writing at the same time but I'll try to get at least one up a week. Thank you for reading and have a good day/afternoon/night :)


	3. Chapter Three ~ Trips To The Store And Friday Streams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Furniture stores can get really frustrating, especially after long periods of time.

Waking up the next day isn't as hard. I go into the shower, still mentally debating whether or not to stream. I usually do a Twitch stream every Friday but I did warn everyone that it might not happen this week. Can I handle four hours of streaming? That's around my normal time for Friday streams unless it's for charity. I cover myself with a towel, tucking in the edge so it stays in place while quietly humming some random song. I mean, everything's set up to do a stream. I'll give it a few more hours and see how I feel then. After getting dressed I get myself a bowl of cereal and head to my computer. I'm about three days behind on watching videos and I should probably catch up on that.    
  
As I eat my cereal I start watching JackSepticEye's videos. My cereal is finished by the time I'm finished one of his videos, though I watch all three before moving on to Seananners. I won't lie, it's refreshing to watch videos. Making them is great but I love the humor of other people more. I save Markiplier for last, knowing that he's doing a series that he started the day I moved. He's playing Lethe but the most recent video is actually Dead By Daylight. It seems like a really cool game but I usually play single player games since I don't have anyone to record with.    
  
"Oh shit! No, no, no! Get away from me you monster!" I didn't realize I blanked until I hear that line. Why does it seem so familiar? Shrugging, the video ends and I decide I should probably go out and buy the furniture I need. Standing up from my desk, I somehow manage to get my foot stuck in a loose wire for my lighting. I have one of those lights on a stand for videos but apparently I didn't move the wire enough. I land on the floor once again with a loud 'thump' and groan. My shoulder burns from rubbing against the carpet and bring my right hand up to hold it.    
  
I rub it for a second until I'm satisfied that it's not broken or sprained. Just a bit of rug burn. I really need to be more careful until I actually get used to where everything is. I go to stand up but fall again. I curse quietly at myself that I forgot the chord's still around my ankle. After unwrapping my foot (how did it even get that tangled?) I grab my shoulder bag with my wallet in it and head for the door. I reach for the knob when there's a knock from the other side. I jump back, startled at the sudden sound. I almost trip over the edge where the carpet changes into the tile but catch myself. Putting my hand over my mouth, I listen to try to hear whoever's outside. There's about a minute of silence before another knock comes.    
  
This goes on for about five minutes even though the person doesn't say anything. Even after I heard a door open and close, I waited another five minutes. Lucky I did because the same door opened and closed twice more. After I'm absolutely positive they're gone, I head out to shop. When I opened the door I'm surprised to find a note taped to the back of it. I head to the stairs, reading it as I make my way out.    
  
'Hey, just wanted to make sure that you're okay. I'm guessing you are since I did hear you swear but I figured I'd check. If you ever do get seriously injured please give me a shout and I'll be there to help.' The words on their own are pretty hard to make out but the signature on the bottom is the worst. I'm guessing that this was from my next door neighbor but whatever he signed at the bottom is very messy. Maybe he was just in a rush but I have no clue what his name is now. I shove the paper into my bag and head to the furniture store.    
  
What a hell that was! I went in there for a lamp and a bedside table. You want to know how long that took me? Three hours! They're bringing them over tomorrow but seriously, it should not have taken that long. As I head back to the apartment building, I manage to trip over a tiny crack in the sidewalk. I was able to catch myself before anything happened though. I sigh in relief as I make it to my place. I'm glad that my neighbor wasn't anywhere in the hall (then again, I don't know what he looks like) so I don't have to interact with anyone. You know, streaming will probably do me some good. I smile to myself and take my phone from my bag. I quickly send out a tweet saying that the stream is on starting at four. This gives me an hour to get everything fully ready.    
  
I put my bag onto the counter and start a pot of spaghetti for an early supper. While that cooks I fill up two water bottles and shove them into the fridge, knowing how hydrated I have to keep myself during this. One time I forgot to drink water and I felt like I was dying the next day. I head back to my recording room and set up my equipment to record some To The Moon. I've played it three or so years ago and I figure that I should go at it again. I remember almost crying last time so let's just do it once more. I adjust the webcam a bit so that it's completely on me before heading back to the kitchen. I don't like spaghetti sauce so I just eat it with parmesan and margarine. I'll just eat something small after the stream to tie my over    
  
I put my plate into the sink and grab one of the bottles from the fridge. Double checking my outfit, I place the bottle onto the desk and sit down in my chair. A plain black t-shirt should be fine. Here's to hoping I don't manage to spill water on myself like a klutz. I turn on the stream to my waiting screen (just a drawing that says 'we'll be right back') and turn off my mic. I tweet the link saying that everything will start in five minutes and go to the bathroom. Since it's just me, I don't think it would be the best to leave for five minutes while peeing. I pull the arm of my chair to turn it towards me and sit down, somehow pushing the chair out from under me. Falling to the floor is more of an annoyance than painful. I get up and brush myself off, properly sitting down this time.    
  
I turn everything on to the game and webcam, having my twitch stream and chat up on my second monitor. Wow, there's already a thousand people watching, what the hell? I mean, I know I have about 300,000 subscribers but still. After three years of doing YouTube, I got a random spike of subscribers that went from 1,000 subs to 50,000 subs. It's just been growing since then. The chat begins spamming me, saying hi and asking how I am. One thing I've managed to do is keep most of my audience really nice to each other. I still get quite a bit of hate but the good outways the bad by a lot.    
  
"Hey guys, welcome to the stream. I'm DaysToCome if you don't know and I go by Days, Cassidy, Cass, or a bunch of other weird nicknames. I was pretty annoyed earlier today but I'm doing great now. How is everyone else?" I ask, waiting a few seconds for the chat to catch up with the video. Most people were saying that they are good, some saying that their day sucked.    
  
"That's good to all the people who are doing well today and I hope that tomorrow will be better to those who had a bad day." I look at the comments once more, seeing that they were asking what annoyed me.    
  
"Oh, just my normal clumsy self. My neighbor tried to check on me because the walls are so thin and I fell down. Twice. What annoyed me was spending three hours trying to pick out two pieces of furniture." I shake my head and laugh to myself.    
  
"Anyways, today I'm going to play through a game called To The Moon. That should take me about three and a half hours-ish if I remember correctly and if I'm not balling my eyes out by the end, I'll play you guys some songs." I go on to explain how I've played it before and whatnot, starting a few file as I do. I'm at the part of the game where we head to the lighthouse with the kids, meaning not that far along, when I notice a message in chat.    
  
'Oh man, Days, Markiplier's streaming.' I laugh slightly, walking around all the origami bunnies.    
  
"Guys, Mark's streaming. I might have to end my stream right now and go watch that instead." I joke, though my audience knows how much I like Mark's videos. They know how much dependence I had on his videos before it just took on a place of inspiration. Some comments were basically begging me to keep playing the game and my eyes widen.    
  
"Oh, I-I'm joking guys, no need to worry. For those of you who don't know, I'm a fan of Markiplier but I won't ditch this stream twenty minutes in to go watch his." I head back to the old man's room and continue on. When I reach the end of the cutscene where the River and John meet, I run out of water.    
  
"Guys, what does Doctor Who and To The Moon have in common?" I as the viewers, still mildly upset from the game but not enough to cry. The chat is filled with 'what?' and even some people telling me not to do it.   
  
"They both lost bodies of water. I'm not crying, you are." I joke and take off my headphones. Everyone who knows the show screams (metaphorically) at me while others are just confused.    
  
"I'll be back, I need to grab my other water." I leave the room, grab my water and head back.    
  
"Alright, I got i-" My words are cut short as my foot gets tangled in the light wire again and I fall on my face. Lucky enough, I'm about a centimeter away from bouncing my face off of my chair instead of the floor. I groan and push myself up with my hands. Note to self, find a good way to place the cord so it won't be in my way next time. Fuck, that actually kind of hurt. This time I remember to unwrap the cord from myself before standing up and putting the bottle onto my desk.    
  
"I'm fine, just give me a second." I tell everyone and head over to the wall, knocking on it once. Hopefully he'll get the message that I'm not terribly injured. I sit back onto my chair, rubbing my right arm where it stings. I put on my headphones again while giving the webcam a small smile of reassurance.    
  
"Sorry, I'm not really use to this apartment and I just got a wire stuck around my foot." I explain and begin heading through the game once more, still reading through the chat.    
  
"The knock? I was just letting my neighbor know that I'm not injured. For some reason he seems concerned about my clumsiness." The scene changes to the school refectory and I begin reading the dialogue that appears as I fix my long dirty blonde hair. I'm really lucky that my glasses haven't been broken by my large amount of falling. I stop everything when I see what my chat's saying.    
  
'Your apartment's next to Markiplier!'   
  
'Your neighbor is Mark'   
  
'I'm watching your stream and Mark's stream at the same time. When you fell you can hear the bang and you can hear the knock as well.' My eyes widen in disbelief.    
  
"Come on, you guys are messing with me." I laugh, not believing my own words. It makes sense. I heard what Mark said in the video before because I heard it through the wall! No, he might have just been watching it too. I heard it the day before it was released. My face heats up as I think of the possibility that it's true. His voice sounded familiar because it's the same voice I've been hearing for five years. I get up from my desk and run to the kitchen, snatching the note from my bag in a rush. At the bottom of the note I can faintly make out the name 'Mark' if I really try. I head back to my desk, careful not to trip over anything this time. My face, though tinted red, goes absolutely serious.    
  
"Okay, everyone here is sworn to secrecy now. No one tells Markiplier that I'm living next to him. He probably doesn't know who I am anyways but I'd rather not have him think I'm some weird stalker. Now, someone tell me what he said when I tripped." My serious tone leaves pretty quickly before it turns to embarrassment. What a great first impression to make to one of the people that inspire me. Ah yes, I'm the girl who trips fifteen times a day.    
  
'He laughed and said that his neighbor tripped again. He explained that you moved in two days ago and have managed to fall at least five times. When you knocked he nodded and said that you were okay.' My face became an even deeper red.    
  
"Ugh, alright. We don't talk about this. Let's finish the game and I'll play a few songs." It only takes me another thirty minutes to finish up. In the end I let out a huge 'awe' as they fly away, internally dying but refusing to show it too much. I played Everything's Alright, Little Talks, Stomach Tied In Knots, We Don't Have To Dance, Driftwood Heart, and The A Team.    
  
"That's all for now guys, thank you for watching this stream. If you guys like my music or my gameplay, my YouTube channel has the same name as my Twitch channel; DaysToCome with no spaces. I also do little vlogs and special effects makeup. I have to go and try to wrap my head around this new information I have received and probably die a little on the inside." I say the last part as a half joke. Seriously though, I might die a little.    
  
"See you guys later and have a great night, morning, or afternoon depending on where you are." I wave to the webcam and end the stream. I instantly switch it over to Markiplier's stream and begin watching him play a game called Human Fall Flat. It seems interesting enough but I can't seem to concentrate on anything other than his facecam. All I can think is that he's literally a wall away from me. Out of all the places I could move in LA, I manage to pick the one right next to a YouTuber that has 28 times the amount of subscribers I have. I sigh and let my head fall to my desk. Not the best idea as I cringe back in pain. Right, wooden desk plus skull equals injuries.    
  
I hear a loud yell come from the wall and it soon echoes through the stream a few seconds later. I guess Mark accidentally fell in the game or something. I look at the time to see that it's already ten. I guess I've been watching the stream for longer than I thought. I need to get some sleep and Mark is probably going to sign off soon anyways so I might as well shut everything down. I exit my browser and shut off my computer. I get changed into my pajamas, brush my teeth, and head to bed. Even so, I'm not able to fall asleep until I hear the bed on the other side of the wall creak as someone falls onto it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Just kidding, I'm sure most people already expected that Mark was her neighbour. Still, I hope everyone liked finally having the girl knowing it's him instead of yelling at the screen for her not knowing. I do have a few chapters pre-written but I like being at least two chapters ahead so I don't feel like I'm rushing myself. I find that rushing makes me put less emotion and detail into what I write. Anyways, there's not much else to say here. Have a great day!


	4. Chapter Four ~ Covers and Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covers can be stupidly hard to record as well as tables can be stupidly hard to assemble. Then again, it's way too expensive to get someone to put the furniture together for you.

To my dismay, I can't stay in bed all day. It's already eleven and I've been scrolling through Tumblr for the past hour, trying to get my mind off of everything. Then again, it doesn't help that Mark's been posting and reblogging a lot. I sigh to myself, finally pulling myself out of bed. I only have a video for today so I have to record. Since tomorrow's Sunday, I need to get a cover recorded. Sundays are covers, Monday is when I don't post, Tuesdays are gaming, Wednesdays are vlogs, Thursdays are my random day, Fridays are gaming, and Saturdays are my Q&A/mail opening/ responding to comments. Saturday's usually just depend on how I feel but it's always one of the three.    
  
Special effects videos are at random times. Usually I record most videos on Monday but this week my cover got corrupted somehow meaning I have to redo it. I get dressed in a white, knee length lace dress with the lace used for sleeves. I don't wear a lot of dresses but I have anxiety when it comes to wearing shorts and I think it kind of matches the song I'm doing. I eat an apple for breakfast since I'm not supposed to have dairy before singing (I won't lie, I break that a lot) and head to my recording room after. I turn on my computer and let it start up while I set the piano up.    
  
Recording the piano for the song isn't the easiest thing in the world considering the song is pretty difficult to play. It left me ending recordings swearing after screwing up. Too slow. Too fast. Wrong note. Wrong tune for the verse I'm playing. A hand slip or two. Or five. This is why I was kind of mad when I realized the recording got corrupted. Finally,  _ finally _ , I get the piano perfect. Even though it took me twenty two times, it's easier than going through the already existing piano covers to find one in good quality (and speed) then ask the person if I can use it for my cover. That could take weeks for them to respond to and I don't have that time.    
  
I put away my piano once more and set up my microphone stand. I braid my hair to the right side before setting up the light that I've been tripping on all the time. I put on the headphones, starting to record video and audio this time. It's Over Isn't It has been a really requested song for me to do since the Steven Universe episode came out a week ago. I was planning on doing a cover for it even before it was suggested but this gives me more motivation to get it perfect. I don't exactly have Pearl's voice at all but I think it works with the song.    
  
Sure enough, this one only takes me four attempts to get right. I was doing well on my second attempt, hitting all of the notes almost perfectly and even adding my own twists to it, when it was interrupted by a scream next door. If I were to actually meet Mark we could totally work out when the other is recording and try to be careful of that. Pssh, who needs logic? Social anxiety takes higher priority. Of course, this leads to an hour of me editing the video together. Finding the proper volume for the piano, finding the volume for my voice, putting in my outro, and syncing up the video with the audio. I'm just glad I'm not doing a music video for this thing.    
  
In any case, the video is ready to be uploaded tomorrow. I lean back in my chair and, I'm proud to say, it did not somehow fall backwards. Alright, time for some lunch. I stand up and walk to the living room, debating on what to eat. Maybe there's a cafe or small restaurant somewhere around here that I can eat at. I walk to the window and look out, wondering how the weather is today. If it's overly hot or overly cold out, I'm obviously not going to go outside. As I look out, the weather isn't the thing that I notice.    
  
A piece of bright red catches my eye and I immediately turn my attention to it. A man with medium red hair and a black shirt is walking away from the building entrance. He checks both ways before crossing the street and starting his journey to wherever he's heading. My breath hitches in my throat at the sight. Well, if I needed confirmation that Markiplier is actually living in this building, here it is. Obviously my viewers weren't just trolling me. So, I'm not going out to eat. I notice Mark shift to look towards the apartment and quickly shut my curtains. Being caught basically stalking isn't the best first impression.    
  
Instead of heading out for food, I make myself a grilled cheese and respond to comments on my recent videos. This is probably a better use of my time anyways. I love responding to people, which is also why I do live streams. Interacting with my viewers is the least I can do in return. I wipe my hands together and see my phone vibrate on the table. Picking it up, I see that it's a call from the furniture shop.    
  
"Hello?" I answer, remembering that I have the lamp and side table coming today.    
  
"Hey, we're here with your furniture. Can you buzz us in?" A voice I've never heard before comes through the phone.    
  
"Y-Yeah, sure give me a sec." I reply before using my phone to give them access to the building. The man quickly thanks me and tells me he'll be up in a soon. At this second I'm glad that Mark isn’t in his apartment. I fear that he would assume I was just being rude by not answering the door yesterday or that he'd try to come over. I sit on the couch scrolling through Tumblr until there's a knock on the door. I quickly but hesitantly get up and answer it. The man his late 40s holds two boxes in his arms balancing them much better than I ever could. Knowing my clumsiness I would probably just trip and fall, dumping the contents of the boxes onto the floor.    
  
"Would you like me to help you put it together? It will be an extra thirty, though." I shake my head at the man, smiling a bit anyways. It took a lot of money to move here and I should probably go on a no-spending binge.    
  
"I-I should be fine. Thank you though." He simply nods and bids me farewell. I don't bother getting up and locking the door, not really worried about anyone breaking in. I pick up the lamp box and bring it to my room. After that's put down, I bring the bedside table box into my room. I sit down onto the carpet floor and prepare myself for an hour of trying to figure out instructions. One thing I'm proud of is that I can catch onto things pretty quickly so this shouldn't be too difficult. Hell, it only took me two days to learn how to play seven different songs on ukulele and the first day I only played it for a half hour.    
  
I dump all the pieces onto the floor and just blink at them for a minute. Alright, I'm going to need my screwdriver kit, music, and a cup of tea. I head to the kitchen and put on the kettle while rummaging through one of the drawers to find my screwdrivers. I manage to find them just as the kettle boils and bring the steeping tea to my room. I place it onto the floor because I don't have a table to put it on and turn on one of my playlists. Dear Maria Count Me In starts playing through my phone speakers as I start reading the instructions on how to put these hundred random pieces together.    
  
One hour, ten sing alongs, three cups of tea, and four marks on my hand from the screwdriver slipping later, the table's finally set up. It actually looks really good too. I may not be able to get the job done fast but I'll make sure it's pretty when it's done. That’s probably why I don’t do a lot of special effects videos. I usually redo it five times so make sure it’s perfect. I head to the kitchen with my cup and decide I should probably clean some dishes before I have a pile. I begin to wash while putting on a pot of water to make some alfredo. I’m weird and don’t like spaghetti sauce or hamburger so alfredo is my go to.   
  
I’m half way through the dishes when I faintly hear Uma Thurman by Fall Out Boy. Laughing, I start singing along, dancing around a bit. It seems like I forgot to turn off my music before coming in here. It’s in my room so if Mark’s recording, it shouldn’t bother him. Even though the original is playing, I actually really like the cover that a YouTuber named Caleb Hyles did. I don't usually watch cover channels but he's the exception. I giggle at myself as the song ends and decide to cover it next week. Even though my voice is better with slower songs, I think I can do it.    
  
The alfredo finishes at the same time the sauce is done cooking and I eat while watching videos. I may have caught up but I still need to watch today's videos. While a Seananners video is playing, I pull up my email on the other monitor and start scrolling through my mail. There's a lot of spam, some notification emails from Tumblr, but one email catches my eye. The address is the Vidcon convention. I stare at it for a moment, questioning if it's real or not. I got one before that turned out to be fake so I know what the real one looks like. 

 

Hesitantly, I open it and begin reading. Surprise crosses my face many times by the time I get to the end. It isn't necessarily a long letter, though it is still shocking. A short summary of what it says is that another YouTuber that was supposed to be a part of VidCon ended up dropping out last minute due to family issues. Having said that they need someone to fill their place. After looking through a long list of possibilities they decided that my small channel would be perfect to take the place. I feel like screaming in joy, though I'd rather not have Mark feel the need to come over and check on me again. 

 

Speaking of Mark, if I remember correctly I saw a video that he posted (maybe it was a tweet, can't really remember) saying that he was also attending VidCon. To me that's not very surprising considering the size of his channel and also the fact that this year it is in LA, which is very convenient for both of us. I was actually planning on getting tickets for it though they sold out pretty quickly. When I found that out I lost hope pretty quickly of going. It also didn't help that I didn't really have the money at the time with moving so far away from England. I quickly email back, saying that I would be delighted to attend. Other than the initial little paragraph to offer the opportunity to me, there isn't a lot of information such as if I'm going to be helping with the stage or what. 

 

I push away from my desk and spin in my chair, giggling in excitement. Of course I'm nervous. I've never really been to a convention before; with the amount of anxiety I have and especially with my agoraphobia it's really difficult to be in crowded places. Even so I won't let that stop me from such a great opportunity. All take having anxiety attacks over having to tell my subscribers when I passed up the opportunity to meet them when I have nothing better planned. Who knows maybe I'll actually even meet some other YouTubers and get along with them! I stop my chair from spinning when I begin to feel mildly sick from the motion. 

 

Thinking about it for a moment, I decide to hold off on Tweeting or making any videos on the subject until Vidcon gets back to me once more and tells me what's going on. It doesn't help the fact that the email was actually sent out yesterday and I doubt they're the most patient people when the conventions only a week or so away. I wouldn't doubt it if they are gave up and decided to choose someone else instead. That thought is enough to stop the excitement from fluttering in my stomach and instead I let out a yawn. Looking at the clock I realize how late it actually is and decide it's for the best if I head to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at naming titles. The next chapter is where things start to pick up a bit, which is exciting. The only problem is I'm being really slow when it comes to writing right now, mostly because it's hard to find time through school, homework, and other responsibilities I have. Like I said, I'll try to get one out per week but I can't promise anything. Have a good day!


	5. Chapter Five ~ Songs and Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set list creating can be a pain and surprise messages can be very anxious.

Waking up the next morning turned out better than the past few days. I still felt very out of it from the time zone change but I'm definitely getting better. My Sunday went around as pleasantly as it possibly could. Since I had my video already prepped to upload at 6, I didn't really have much to do. I usually spend my Mondays recording videos for the week so I usually just hang out on Sunday and go into town. Of course I don't necessarily know LA. I mean I don't really have anywhere to go. Every third Sunday I'd go to a karaoke bar and tell people who lived in the area I was to come hang out though I guess that's not really an option anymore. 

To be completely honest Monday isn’t any more exciting. I usually like to save recording my Saturday video for Friday so that people don't have to wait as long to get the answers to the questions they have, which left my Wednesday vlog and my Thursday random video. I decided that I would use the recording from the Friday stream as my gaming videos which just left the editing for that and editing isn't the most exciting thing. Even so, To The Moon should give me about five episodes. My day was spent just recording and editing. I did come to the realization that I should probably start making extra videos for VidCon. 

Actually, probably one of the only things that was truly exciting during the three days happened Tuesday. I got a message back from VidCon, thanking me for coming on such short notice and telling me what my schedule will be. They also need to know if I want to use my YouTube name or real name and give them an actual photo to use. I haven’t really bothered to post pictures of myself and my social media ones are just my infinity symbol with three birds in different stages of flight. I had to search through all of my pictures just to find one professional one of myself. Turns out the last time I got pictures taken was two years ago but luckily the only thing that has changed is my blonde hair is longer.

After replying to them with the photo and asking them to just use my YouTube name, I head to bed. People know me more as ‘Days’ anyways so having my real name on it would probably just confuse most people. I wake up Wednesday and take my auto-post off today’s video. After eating some cereal and getting ready for the day, I set up my recording stuff. I almost trip over the leg of my computer chair but catch myself and sit down. I cross my legs and turn everything on. Pausing, I mentally convince myself to begin the video.

“Hello there, people of the internet! I’m DaysToCome if you don’t know and this might seem really weird. I-I usually have a vlog, talking about whatever comes to my mind, on Wednesday but not talking about anything like this!” I clear my throat, noticing that I stuttered and compose myself before continuing. I may have been doing this for a few years now but I’m still pretty bad at keeping my confidence level up when just talking to the camera. That’s the main reason I started doing my vlogs, to try to gain confidence.

“I got an email from Vidcon that said that they needed someone to fill the open spaces from other YouTubers not being able to make it. Since I recently moved to LA and that’s where they’re hosting this year, they asked me to join them.” I give a little cheer and put my fist in the air before re-crossing my legs.

“This will be the first convention I go to so I don’t really know how it will go with my anxiety but I’m hoping everything will be fine. On the registration day, I’ve been asked to perform for a half hour at the AwesomenessTV Festival stage. The first day I don’t have anything so I’ll just be walking around like an idiot. If you see me, feel free to say hi and talk to me. I may be awkward but I love to meet you guys.” I point at the camera and laugh at the uncertainty in my voice. I re-say what I just did and keep my voice steady this time.

“The second day I have a Q&A from 11:00-12:00 in the third ballroom. That’s all for the second day though I will be around at different panels because I may make videos but I love watching a lot of YouTubers that are going to be there. Anyways, the third day I have twenty five minutes starting at 1:00 to game at the Snickers Competitive Gaming Stage. This was probably the least expected thing since I’m not really known for my gaming skills, which I don’t have.

“Right, I’m getting off topic again. Vidcon starts next Tuesday and, let me tell you something, I have not performed live in about three years. I have to create a set list, memorize chords, fix notes and just practice everything. I, lucky enough, don’t have to worry about travel and packing because I’m already here. I’m actually  _ really  _ excited. I’m excited that I’m getting to meet you guys, that I’m getting to perform again, I’m excited that I’m even getting this opportunity. I know I say this a lot but I wouldn’t be doing this without you guys.” I go onto a short rant about how much they’ve helped me and how much I appreciate them. 

When I found out that I didn’t get into any of the universities I wanted (not that my grades weren’t good but I just screwed up by not taking one course I needed), I thought I was screwed until I got the special effects program. I end the video and lean back in my chair. I shut my eyes and attempt to let my anxiety leave me. Even the thought of being in front of so many people sets off my panic. 

Noticing my lack of hunger, even though it’s already one, I decide to edit the video. It isn’t much since I just have to take out my awkward pauses and add my outro, though it still takes me about a half hour. I quickly post it while listening to James Dean And Audrey Hepburn by Sleeping With Sirens. It seems really quiet from Mark’s recording room so I should probably take this opportunity to start a setlist. I head over to my bookcase and slide my finger across the books placed into a line on one of the shelves. 

The fact that I can recognize what each book is just by the feel of their spines is pretty amazing to me. There are three made from a stringy fabric, tall and thick which are three of my favourite books to read. There is a set of five, short and medium sized that are larger comic books I want to get into. There are around thirty books here, including my drawing books, but I stop at the medium, smooth leather one and pull it out. The brown book has a string wrapped around it, made of the same material as the book itself. The front of it has the design of a tree etched into it, filled in with a darker shade of brown. 

I grab my guitar and sit down at my desk. I open the book with pages filled with lyrics and chords, flipping through the pages until I find the first one with songs written all over it. This is my song writing book and, though I need a new one, I cherish it with all I have. This book has every song I’ve ever written in it and the list of all the songs I can play. If I lost it, I would probably cry. Taking out a piece of paper from my desk, I start searching through my songs and tuning my guitar at the same time. I’m always the worst at choosing songs to play so this isn’t going to be very fun.

Okay, this is a festival meaning I should probably keep the slow songs a minimum; which cuts out over half of my songs. I write down Dear Maria Count Me In, seeing it high on the list, and sigh as I read all of my options. It takes a surprising amount of restraint to write down a bunch of songs I know I can play well but might accidentally put people to sleep. By the time I get through the 300+ songs I have down, I end up with twenty songs to choose from. Since I’ll have thirty minutes, I should have around six songs with an extra just to be safe. Pulling up Ultimate Guitar, I begin playing through my long list of songs, scratching off the ones that don’t sound as well as I’d like them to. 

Two hours later, I finally finish going over songs and re-going over songs, I choose my seven. Dear Maria Count Me In by All Time Low, Bulletproof Love by Pierce The Veil, Check Yes Juliet by We The Kings, Something’s Gotta Give by All Time Low, We Don’t Have To Dance by Andy Black, Run by me, and Sick Of Losing Soulmates by Dodie Clark. I couldn’t help myself from putting at least one slow song into the list. About half way through deciding on songs, the video uploads and I post a link to it on Twitter and a separate tweet saying that I’m going to Vidcon with my schedule.

I stand up and slip my guitar strap on, deciding to play one song before I make myself an early supper. I start playing Fallout by Mariana’s Trench and singing pretty loud, in a mildly joking matter. I don’t bother fully trying at getting the correct notes and begin laughing so hard by the time I reach the second chorus that I have to stop. It’s probably weird that I’m laughing at myself but I don’t really have anyone to laugh with me. I haven’t really had any close friends since I moved to London. Since I have such a problem with anxiety, it’s hard to make friends. I had a few but they got sick of dealing with my panic attacks and left.

My laughter dies down and I put my guitar back to its original place when I hear my phone buzz on my desk. Looking at it in shock, I pick it up and head to the kitchen. When I look down at the notification, I almost have an anxiety attack. I just got a Twitter dm, which is fairly common except for  _ who  _ sent it to me. I sit down on the ground with my back against the wall while attempting to even my breathing. Nope, nope,  _ nope,  _ I can  _ not  _ deal with this. My hands shake as I put in my password (getting it wrong the first time) and opened up Twitter. I click on my dms and stare at the most recent one in complete shock.

I take off my glasses and put them onto the top of my head. My vision goes blurry since I’m blind as all hell and bring my phone closer so I can see. I click onto the message, noticing the blue check mark that confirms the authenticity of the account. Even seeing that, my brain doesn’t want to believe that it’s true. It seems so surreal, even if the whole neighbour thing seems less likely. I carefully read and reread it before throwing my head back against the wall. All things considered, that probably wasn’t the best idea but I also didn’t mean to do it as hard as I did.

‘Hi DaysToCome, this is Mark Fischbach. I realize that this is pretty unprofessional of me but I feel like you’d just take an email that I send you as spam and this way you at least know it’s me. I have a kind of business proposal for you if you’re interested. Please message me back as soon as you can if you would like more information.’ I feel like massively fangirling but at the same time curling into a ball and hiding in a corner for the rest of my life. I’ve come to terms with Mark being my neighbour but I don’t think I ever planned on actually talking to him. What does he even have in mind? Why is he messaging  _ me  _ with a business proposal? I shut my eyes and steady my breathing.

‘Hey Mark, I’d love to know about this proposal.’ I respond with a short, yet professional message in attempt to stop myself from sounding like I’m freaking out over his message. Putting my phone beside me, I quietly start singing Everything’s Alright by  Laura Shigihara in attempt to calm myself down. Sure enough, by the time I finish the song, I’ve calmed down enough to stand up without losing my balance. I finally get to the kitchen and warm up the rest of the fried rice I made yesterday. While that warms up, I get another message from Twitter. This time I open it in a more calm manner.

‘Thank you for getting back to me so quickly! Vidcon decided to give me a panel this year in ballroom six at 3:30 and told me that I could have three other people. I chose Jack, Bob, and Wade like I usually do but Bob couldn’t make it because of personal reasons. All of the other people I also play with either also have a panel or aren’t coming to the convention. When I messaged Vidcon about the issue they informed me that you were just brought onto the list and you have the first day completely free. I was wondering if you’d be comfortable joining the three of us in the panel?’ The only thing that snaps me out of my daze is the beeping of the microwave to tell me that my food is ready. I take the bowl out and sit down at the small bar on the living room side. 

Is this something I  _ can  _ do? I’ve never met Mark, Bob,  _ or  _ Jack before so would it be just completely awkward? Then again, he said that all of his other friends are busy while this panel is going on, meaning he’s pretty much out of options. If I say no, would he even be able to do the panel? What if I say no then accidently meet him in the hall or something? That would be really awkward… But how do I respond to this?

‘Thank you for the offer, I would love to join the panel.’ I shake my head and delete my response, trying again.

‘I don’t know, Mark, your shortness might make me uncomfortable.’ My hand slips, clicking the send button and regret immediately fills my veins. Is there a delete life button? It’s a stupid response for anyone (except his friends) to say but especially for my since I  _ know _ that I’m shorter than he is. I let out a sound of annoyance and eat some of my supper. I resent the moment Mark sees the message and sadly that moment comes sooner than I hoped. It doesn’t take two minutes for his reply to come.

‘Oh really? My shortness will make you uncomfortable? If I remember correctly, you’re shorter than I am.’ My face heats up instantly. He knows about me? I force myself to take a pause and think it through logically. It’s pretty easy to just search up my height and if people know anything about me it’s either my music or my shortness. I carefully answer back, making sure not to send anything I don’t want to this time.

‘True, but I’m the tallest of my friend group, you’re the shortest.” It takes me a while to decide what to say but I think I chose the best idea. I put my bowl into the sink, glad that the first burst of anxiety wore me out for the most part. Looking at the clock on the stove, I notice it’s almost ten already. That’s not really late but because of my panic, I know I won't be doing anything productive tonight. I head to my room and get ready to lay down in bed. Once everything’s good I put my glasses onto my bedside table and lay down. Opening Twitter, I notice a new message from Mark waiting for me. Actually, it says he sent it about two minutes after I sent mine. 

‘And which friends are shorter than 5”1?’ I jump slightly at the creak of the bed on the other side of the wall. I wonder if he actually knows that there's only a thin wall separating us. Surely he would have said something about it if he did. 

‘I don't have any so that makes me tallest by default.’ This time my answer is really easy to find. Sure, it's a self burn but it's true and proves my point. I wrinkle my nose to suppress a yawn and snuggle further into my blankets. It may be a lower temperature in London but even while I was living there, my blankets were a necessity. Something about having a nice, warm cover wrapped around me is comforting. Even so, I wish I had a cuddle buddy. My mind starts to wonder but is brought back by another message. 

‘Does no one remember that Jack and I are the same height?’ I smile, dazed, and suppress a laugh. If Mark heard someone laughing at the exact time he sent a message, he might get suspicious.

‘Jack’s Irish, he gets a free pass.’ If I ever imagined talking to Mark, this is definitely not how I expected it to go. For someone who can’t have a face to face conversation without stuttering like an idiot, I’m doing pretty well like this. Maybe it’s because I can just pretend that I’m writing a book or something along those lines and not that Mark is actually conversing with me.

‘WELL THEN.’ I throw my hand over my mouth and actually resort to stuffing my head into my pillow. I think he regrets inviting me to the panel. When I finally catch my breath and my laughter dies down, I go back to my regular laying position. I look at my phone to see that he actually sent another message.

‘If you’re done harassing me, you never gave me a definitive answer to the panel.’ I can just imagine Mark trying to keep an annoyed expression but ending up smiling anyways.

‘In all seriousness, I’d love to join. Thank you so much for inviting me.’ Back to professional mode. He’s probably bored with talking to me so I’ll let him end it here. After all, he is laying in bed so he’s most likely going to sleep anyways. In any other context, that would sound really creepy.

‘It’s no problem, really, thank you for joining. We could have done it with just the three of us but it wouldn’t be as fun. I’ll message Vidcon so they can list you right away.’ While I’m trying to figure out how to respond, my phone sounds out my notification ringtone and tells me that Mark tweeted. I open and read it just so it stops playing. I guess I forgot to turn down my sounds. All it says is that the little set back in the panel was solved and that he found someone to take Bob’s spot.    


'Cool, do I get to know what we're doing at the panel?' I've watched the videos of the 'Mark and friends' panels at Pax but I think this this is the first official one at Vidcon. Usually there isn't anything planned but it is a different convention. About the tweet though, I'm both glad and disappointed that he didn't include my name with it. I'm glad because I don't want people to think that I'm taking the opportunity of Mark having no available friends to boost my channel, but I'm disappointed that maybe he didn't want people knowing that it's me taking Bob's place.    
  
'Nope, no one gets to know but me.' If Mark's online persona matches his actual personality, he means nothing about excluding my name.

‘Wow, so you actually have a plan for this one?’ I send without thought and facepalm when I realize.

‘Do you doubt my skills with running stages?’ No, they always turn out really funny and great. Even when they didn’t know how to top Wade proposing, it turned out amazing.

'Maybe I do, maybe I don't.' Even so, I decide it’s best just to joke around. Mark could have ended the conversation a while ago; I guess he's okay with continuing to converse. I decide not to let my writer's mind wonder and stick to the present.    
  
'Are you just looking to start a fight?' I giggle quietly enough that Mark won't be able to hear me through the wall.    
  
'Obviously.' I know for a fact that I would lose against Mark, being less than half his size. It doesn't help that I have an actual fear of hurting people.    
  
'Careful what you wish for. After all, we're meeting in less than a week.' I highly doubt he will legitimately fight me. I'm small, he'll take pity.    
  
'Is that a threat?'   
  
'More of a warning.' I scoff to myself and shake my head. Is this just us sassing each other back and forth? It's been awhile since I've talked like this to anyone. I usually talk with my subs but this is different. We're not completely talking to each other professionally and it's really nice. I wish I had more conversations like this.    
  
'Whatever you say, Mark.' I click off of the messages for the first time and begin checking out my Twitter feed. I like and respond to some of the tweets that mention me. I find myself yawning and remember that I didn't put the margarine in the fridge and if I don't, it will be melted in the morning. Don't ask why that's so important to me, it just is.    
  
I go to step off my bed and my foot gets tangled in the blanket. I smile at the fact that I noticed before I manage to trip over it and get my foot free. That's right, not tripping tonight. I stand up and for a moment just take in the feeling of the soft grey carpet on my bare feet. I've learned that sometimes the simple things in life are great. I just love the feeling of the soft fluff. I turn and head to the door when my foot hits something hard. My knee hits the top of the box-like object and I stick out my hands to catch myself.    
  
The problem is, like I've said before, I don't work out. My hands hit the carpet but I don't have them in the proper position to hold my weight and they give out on me. I don't hit my face off the ground but it gets pretty close. I take a moment to judge my injuries and flip onto my back. I move each body part, finding that my knee stings slightly but that's the extent of my problems.    
  
Turns out I didn't move my suitcase off to the side. My fault for not having my glasses on. I hear a low chuckle from next door and the knock that follows isn't much of a surprise. I sit up and move my suitcase before returning the knock on the side with my bed against it. The laughter grows a bit louder and I huff in response. Then again, having a clumsy neighbour is probably pretty entertaining.    
  
"You were doing so well. Good night, whoever you are." Mark's laughter dies down a bit and I see my phone screen brighten. The notification lights up to show Mark messaging me again. I pick it up and actually head to the kitchen this time.    
  
'Believe what you want. Sorry for the delayed reply, I meant to message you sooner but my neighbour tripped again.' I roll my eyes and shove the stupid margarine into the refrigerator. If it wasn't for the margarine, I would still be in my comfy bed.    
  
'It's fine, I had to put something in the fridge anyways.' I try to keep my reply vague and not say 'it's fine, I was recovering from you laughing at me for tripping over my suitcase'. That might slightly give it away.    
  
'I meant to ask you what you prefer to be called. I've seen people call you a bunch of different things.' I carefully get back to my room and make it back under the covers without anymore clumsiness. It's a fair question he's asking; a lot of people ask me the same thing.    
  
'My actual name is Cassidy but I didn't tell anyone until last year so people started calling me Days. You can call me Cassidy but I might not respond instantly.' I try to keep my explanation as short and simple as I can, mostly because if I make it more complicated, I'll probably screw up.    
  
'Why wouldn't you respond?' I yawn once more while trying to type. I'm pretty tired but I don't want to stop this. Since I'm so tired, it's easier to talk to him. My anxiety gets low at night meaning I'm not freaking out.    
  
'There were a lot of people at my school and even in the program I was in with the same name. Whenever I heard it, they were talking to someone else. I basically stopped responding to it.' I was never popular and they were never talking to me. My family even just use my nickname, Cass or Cassy. My eye involuntarily begin to shut and I force them back open.    
  
'I like talking to you, I really do, but I'm about to fall asleep here.' I message Mark before he gets a chance to respond. The second I send the message, my eyes completely shut and I black out.


	6. Chapter Six ~ The Coffee Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With nothing to do, taking a walk seems like a nice idea.

I yawn as I sit down on my couch. It's about noon by now and I honestly don't know what I want to do with today. I want to take a free day from any possible stress with takes away recording videos, going onto most social medias, writing, and playing video games. My apartment isn't dirty enough that I need to clean it since I just moved in, not that I’d want to do it even if it was. With my morning routine already done, I guess I could go check out the area. Maybe I’ll find a nice place to record.

I head to my recording room and put my ukulele in its soft case. I usually bring it around with me while exploring incase I get inspiration. Checking the front pouch, I realize that there’s still about five dollars in change so I can buy a drink if I find a cafe or something. I grab my keys and put on my shoes, taking my time as I do. I’m in no rush. Before heading out, I look outside to make sure I don’t see Mark.

I lock my door behind me and head down the stairs. I hold onto the railing as I shift my ukulele on my back when I get down to the lobby as it starts to fall slightly. It’s nice to get out into the sun, though weird. I still expect to see the streets of London and instead find people driving on the opposite sides of the road and a bunch of graffiti. Even so, it’s not a sight that annoys me. I’ll get used to it at some point, even if it takes a while. I’m kind of glad that I don’t drive around here since it looks absolutely insane. Apparently there’s a bus service that has a bus stop right down the street and I’ll have to get tickets because it stops at the place where Vidcon is being hosted.

I look both ways and cross the street. I don’t really have a destination right now so I’ll just walk until I see something I find interesting. As I make my way around, I take in the scenery around me. The sun is high in the sky with little to no clouds in sight, making it fairly warm out. The few street vendors make the air smell like french fries and other types of fast food. I can see different types of birds flying around, picking up the loose food on the ground, though they’re barely audible with all the conversations going on around me. Outside my apartment isn’t highly populated but now that I’m a decent distance away, I’m closer to the commercial district.

Most people are carrying around coffee and talking on their phones, probably heading back to work after lunch. There are many teenagers walking around also, hanging out with friends since it’s summer. They’re most likely trying to enjoy the break while it lasts. Good for them. Continuing on, I take a look at the small shops around. There’s a bookstore, a local jewelry store, a tea store, flower shop, and a bunch of others. The one that catches my eye is a little cafe. Even despite the size, there’s quite a few people going in and out.

Letting the curiosity get the better of me, I cross the street and head towards the shop. I take a deep breath and grab the metal handle on the glass door. I pull it open the door and the scent of coffee instantly hits me. My nose wrinkles slightly as I take the first few steps into the busy shop but soon get use to it. I don’t care for the drink but sometimes it smells pretty good. Chatter fills the small space but the sound of music can still be heard.

The bar stools are all filled with two waitresses behind it, running around in attempt to get the orders filled. There are very few open spaces in the booths and few seats at the tables around the floor. The left wall is completely covered in shelves, filled with books while the back wall next to the bar has a small stage area. On the stage is some man in his late teens, singing into a microphone while Eye Of The Tiger plays. Some of his friends are recording the scene on their phones and the guy winks at the camera.

The small bell that chimes from the door as I walk in catches the attention of a few people but most go back to what they’re doing immediately after. I flip my ukulele off my back and walk to the cash register, pulling out the change I have. Once I have my money, I put my case back into it’s usual position. A girl with long brown hair, pulled up into a simple bun and wearing a cafe uniform calls out a name. Some guy picks up his coffee and the girl walks over to me.

“Hi, what can I get you?” Her voice has a sing-song tone to it, probably overly rehearsed. I take a quick glance at the menu, feeling my awkwardness kick into overdrive.

“Um, c-can I have a medium hot chocolate please?” I decide quickly, not wanting to hinder her work for too long.

“Of course! That will be $2.50.” I count out the change, glad that I transitioned from Euros to American change so quickly. I did a little brush up on it before I left. I take my case off again and put the rest of the money into the pocket.

“Oh, are you planning on playing?” She asks and tries to hand me back a dime but I decline it, looking back at the stage where there’s fake cheering.

“I-I, no, _no,_ just here for a drink.” Shaking my head, I give a light, sarcastic laugh.

“Days?” I turn around at the sound of a deep male voice. Letting out a breath, I take in the tall, 6”3 man. My body had sent a wave of panic through my veins, fearing that it was Mark but, luckily, it’s not.

“Y-Yeah, hi.” I give the man a smile to which he returns. His brown eyes sparkle as he flips a piece of black hair out of his eyes. He’s not that bad to look at.

“Wow, I never thought I’d ever meet you.” He holds out his hand to me and I hesitantly shake it.

“I’m Elliot,” Elliot looks so happy at having this conversation. I’ve had a few people that have met me and they’re the same way. It’s still weird when this happens because I know I’d do the same thing if I met the people I look up to; which is probably why I’m avoiding Mark at all while in the apartment. When Vidcon comes around, I don’t really have a choice but I’m keeping out of his way.

“I-I would introduce myself but you already know.” We both give out a lame laugh and I shift my ukulele again.

“My friends and I love your videos! We’ve been watching them for three years now. When I heard you were moving to LA, I was really hoping I could meet you.” A blush creeps onto my cheeks and I scratch the back of my neck. Compliments aren’t my strong point.

“Oh, t-thank you for the support.” I attempt to make decent conversation.

“Hey, can you please play a song? I’m sure everyone would appreciate it. Anything’s better than Eye Of The Tiger guy.” I bite my lip and way my pros and cons.

“I-I guess it would be good to get some live practice in before Vidcon.” Elliot lets out a cheer and grabs my arm. I flinch slightly at the sudden contact but follow him towards the stage anyways. He grabs the microphone as he steps onto the higher leveled area and pushes the ‘Eye Of The Tiger guy’ back to the tables.

“Enough of that!” A cheer comes from the crowd, probably glad that they don’t have to listen to his next cover.

“So we have a special guest here today. Miss DaysToCome has graced us with her presence. For those of you who don’t know, she is a YouTuber that is all around great. Here she _is_!” He points at me and waves for me to come on stage when I hesitate. Elliot positions the microphone in the stand once more and sets up a stool for me to sit on in front of it. I slip my bag off my shoulder and pull my ukulele out of it. Tossing the remaining bag off to the side, I notice a lot of people cheering.

“Is it electric acoustic?” Elliot asks, holding up a chord to plug it in. I nod my head and put it into the proper position. I sit down onto the stool with a little difficulty from how tall it is.

“Get off the stage, El!” Someone yells and Elliot raises his hands in defense but leaves anyways. I strum a random chord and begin changing the volume of it so it’s not too loud.

 “H-Hi,” I say into the mic and cringe at the sound of my own voice. Maybe agreeing to perform on the AwesomenessTV stage wasn’t the best idea. I get a few greetings back as I put the ribbon strap over my head so the instrument is sitting properly.

 “S-So I didn’t plan on playing today and I don’t really know what songs to do here.” I try to explain to the best of my ability.

 “Anything but Eye Of The Tiger!” The cafe bursts into fits of laughter and I join in. At least they have a good sense of humor. I would just play a few songs from my setlist for the stage but they’re all on guitar so that doesn’t work out.

 “What about Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran?” I suggest, moving my fingers into the chords I have memorized. A few people verbally agree with my suggestion and I feel my feet go cold. My breathing speeds up as I start playing the intro and I begin to feel slightly dizzy. When I stopped doing small performances at my town fair, I lost the nerve to play live. I was used to this panicky feeling but not now, after all of this time. I quickly think back to how I handled it before and silently curse at myself. I speed up the strumming pattern and switch the C chord and the F chord.

 “S-Sorry guys, I haven’t done this in a while. I’m going to do Stomach Tied In Knots by Sleeping With Sirens.” I extend the intro by a few loops, only furthering my nerves but giving me time to remember the lyrics and tune.

 “ _Oh my stomach’s tied in knots. I’m afraid of what I’ll find if you wanna talk tonight_ .” The second I start singing, the tension in my body begins to relax. Something about music just makes helps me let out my anxiety. When I finish up the first line, the small crowd cheers and I hear someone in the audience yell ‘see, that’s how you perform.’ to Eye Of The Tiger guy. Despite the nerves, playing music live again feels _so_ good. The energy of the people listening, seeing the happiness on their faces, it’s all amazing. This is what I knew I wanted to do when I went to my first actual concert.

 “ _I can’t live without you, oh_.” Whistles from the audience makes me blush and laugh at the same time.

 “For those of you who are going t-to Vidcon in five days, I’ll be there. I-I’m performing the registration night on the AwesomenessTV Stage a-along with a few other panels that I won’t list off right now.” When I finish my little bit of information, I slide myself off of the chair and Elliot runs on again. While I put away my instrument, I hear him telling everyone about my YouTube channel. As I toss my bag back onto my shoulder, I head over to the bar to finally pick up my drink. The cup is still warm as the girl hands it to me and I thank her quietly. Taking a sip, I sigh in content. The hot chocolate is actually the best I’ve had in awhile. My favourite cafe in London was shut down and I haven’t been able to find a really good cup since.

 “Hey, thank you for playing. We haven’t really had a good musician in here all day.” I jump slightly at Elliot’s sudden appearance but smile at him nonetheless. He seems like a really nice guy. Well, I haven’t gotten any bad feelings about him so that’s good.

 “N-No problem, really. I-I needed the practice anyways.” He smiles back and leans against the counter, making sure he’s not in the way of the baristas first. I hear Elliot release a sigh and looks up to see a smile still on his lips. He’s staring over at the tables where two guys are trying to keep Eye Of The Tiger guy from getting back on stage.

 “The shop’s been surprisingly good since we opened. I usually have open mic days on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays but it’s been more of a joke to most people. We’ve had a few good ones come in but most are like that guy.” El points over at the small commotion going on and I give out a small laugh when he sits back down, crossing his arms while pouting. I shake my head and take another sip of my amazing drink. I wonder if they use real chocolate in this?

 “It’s funny though, you’re not the first YouTuber that’s come in here. Markiplier’s been showing up and getting drinks every few days. He says that it’s nice to have coffee after going to the gym.” My eyes widen and I start slightly choking on my drink. I cough and place the take out cup onto the counter to steady myself. Elliot pats my back, trying to help my breathe again while laughing.

 “Sorry, I wanted to see your reaction. Have you not met him yet?” He continues his little chuckle and I clear my throat so I’m able to speak properly.

 “N-No, we haven’t crossed paths.” Elliot tilts his head at me in slight confusion. In the background I can hear some girl go onto the stage and start singing Chandelier by Sia.

 “So, I probably don’t live even close to him and I met him because he came into my new shop but you haven’t and you live right next door?” Before I can respond, I hear the chest opening sound from Legends Of Zelda coming from my pocket. Grabbing that, I realize that it’s a Twitter notification; or when someone messages me, to be exact. As I see the message on my screen, a blush tints my cheeks. I can tell Elliot’s looking over my shoulder and he doesn’t try to hide it as he lets out an ‘ooooo’.

 “You haven’t met him but you’ve certainly been talking to him.” When he nudges me with his elbow, my blush deepens. I scratch the back of my neck, trying to come up with a proper response but not being able to find one. Instead, I give out a nervous laugh and an awkward ‘ _yeah’._

 “Well, go on. Open it.” I slide the notification and type in my password as quick at possible; not on purpose but as an immediate reaction. My Twitter immediately opens and pops up the past conversation between Mark and I. The only message visible before the new one is a message from him that I didn’t get a notification for saying ‘Good to know I make a good first impression. Have a good sleep, Days.’. I pretend not to see it and move onto the most recent one.

 ‘Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to record something today. I figured it might be a good idea to record something before the panel. You know, kind of get to know each other. Jack and Wade will be there too.’ I barely have to think for a second before responding.

 ‘Sorry, I’m really busy for the next few days.’ I take a final sip from my hot chocolate and toss the cup while Elliot reads the message. I see him mouthing every word he’s reading before slapping my arm.

 “ _Ow_ , what the hell?” I ask, rubbing my shoulder. It didn’t really hurt, just surprised me.

 “You don’t just decline _Markiplier!_ Are you insane or something? Even if you _are_ busy, you make time!” Elliot shakes my shoulder again, this time not having to worry about my drink anymore. I actually have to step away because he doesn’t stop.

 “I-If I record with him a-and he heard his neighbour trip a-at the same time I-I trip or he yells and hears himself through my mic, he’s going t-to get suspicious.” I explain, hoping he’ll understand.

“Then just act surprised when he points it out.” Elliot suggests but I shake my head.

 “I-I’m not going to lie to M-Mark like that. People a-already know and it would only be a-a matter of time before he finds out. I-I’m just going to wait for the right o-opportunity.” I shrug, trying to keep any panic out of my voice. If I don’t convince him, he might just message Mark himself or tell him the next time he comes in.

 “Okay, don’t tell him but I’m saying that I met you.” Elliot says with a smirk and my eyes widen.

 “ _Elliot_ ,” I give him a warning but his smile just grows.

 “Hey, I’m really excited to meet you, I’ll probably telling everyone. It might just slip while Mark’s around.” He raises his hands in surrender when I glare.

 “Listen, you can’t just let me talk to both members of my OTP and not at least try to push them together. Oh man, then I could write a book about it or at least a Tumblr post. I know a lot of people who would thank me.” I open my mouth to respond but stop and blink at him.

 “W-Wait, what do you m-mean by ‘a lot of people’?” Elliot drops his hands and just stares at me really confused for a minute.

 “Y-You do realize the second you brought up really liking Markiplier’s videos, people started shipping it?” He stumbles on his words in the beginning, trying to find the proper way to phrase it. My face goes red and I put my phone away.

 “ _No,_ ” I drag out, covering my face with my hands. I didn’t know there was a ship with me and anyone else; usually I’m a very quiet channel with just me. I’ve never had any drama or relationships, just my channel and I.

 “ _Yes_ , we’re a very quiet group of people but we hold the ship very close.” El adds a small evil laugh at the end and I groan in displeasure.

 “I-I’m going to pretend I-I never heard this.” I conclude. I’d rather completely forget this than dwell on it.

 “You can try to ignore it all you want but the second you record together or that panel happens, we will rise up and claim our rightful place as true shippers.” He turns to me and wiggles his eyebrows before continuing.

 “Then it will take more than luck to avoid all the fan art, fanfics, and everything else we can come up with.” One of the workers interrupts our conversation to inform Elliot that they’re almost out of muffins, giving me a moment to breathe. Before he turns back to me, he checks the clock behind the counter.

 “If you’re still trying to avoid him, you might want to head out in the next five minutes. He’s been coming in at four every Thursday for the past two weeks.” I quickly look over at the clock, seeing that it’s about 3:50.

 “T-The fact that you’ve been keeping track o-of that is slightly worrying b-but helpful. D-Do you know which way he comes from?” Elliot looks behind me at the entrance and I panic, turning to look at the door. When I notice there’s no one there, I turn back and glare at him. He just smirks back at me.

“That way,” El points to the opposite way of the apartments and I nod, relieved. I won’t have to take a detour to make sure our paths don’t cross. I get Elliot to put his number into my contacts and make my way back home. The rest of the night goes uneventful except for rewatching two seasons of Supernatural to prepare for the upcoming season. I end up shutting myself off from social media and staying in the living room until I’m sure that Mark is asleep in attempt to keep him out of my mind.

 I don’t want to think about the ship or meeting him or anything that sets off my anxiety. I sleep hoping tomorrow will be less worrying than today was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I feel kind of bad because I threw this book into the back of my mind while working on my other books and worrying about personal stuff. I only remembered that I had this chapter written when I got a notification from someone commenting. What I have planned for the next chapter is pretty exciting but I don't know how long it will take me to write it. Anyways, thank you to everyone reading and I hope you have a good day :)


	7. Chapter Seven ~ Falling For A Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clumsiness followed by more clumsiness followed by awkwardness.

I jump up in my bed as I hear a crash from the other side of the wall, my heart beating as fast as it can possibly go without sending me into a heart attack. With my mind still buzzing with fog from just waking up, I hear a string of loud cusses come from Mark. I grab my phone that managed to find its way under my pillow and open Twitter while the sound of him attempting to pick up whatever he managed to drop continues. I type out a message to ask if he’s okay but wake up just in time to stop myself from sending it. I shake my head and toss it to the side. That was closer than I want. I reach over and knock on the wall, hoping that it’s loud enough to be heard over the crashing. 

“I’m fine! I’m fine. I just dropped some stuff.  _ Fuck _ .” Another crash sounds out and I start laughing, probably louder than I should be.  _ I thought I was supposed to be the clumsy one. _

“Go ahead, laugh at me! Haha, very funny.” I throw a hand over my mouth but it doesn’t quiet my laughter that well. Hearing Mark’s voice is weird not coming from the videos I watch but it’s nicer, in a way. Maybe that sounds really creepy but it’s nice to hear a person’s voice that I know, in any type of way. I’ve talked to employees at stores, some people that have recognized me in public, that sort of thing but I haven’t had anyone familiar to talk to in a while. Then again, I can’t really say much since we aren’t friends or anything. There’s a creek from the bed again.

“So you don’t want to actually talk to me but you have no problem laughing at me through the wall?” My giggles settle down enough that I can give a single knock on the wall. 

“Oh, you’re sticking to knocking responses? Once for yes, twice for no.” I knock twice and hear a gasp in mock surprise. He may find the knocking weird but if he’s heard my voice before, he might get suspicious.

“Ouch, that hurts. Fine then, I have to go to town anyways. Need anything?” I start laughing again at the seriousness in his tone. Why would he ask that? Does he doubt my abilities to go out and get things I need?! I’m kidding. I knock twice once more and hear him stand back up.

“Alrighty then, I’ll knock to you later.” I accidentally snort from laughing so hard and shove my face into my pillow, my cheeks heating up. I really hope he didn’t hear that. I’ve tried to teach myself not to do that but it doesn’t work. It happens to my sister too. I stand up and grab my phone before heading to the kitchen. It’s only about 9:30, which is pretty early for me. Making myself some tea, I try to decide what I want to do today. I should probably record a cover for this Sunday and maybe next Sunday. Since the convention doesn’t end until Friday, I don’t want to be rushing to get a cover done on Saturday. I also need to stream tonight. I don’t really have an excuse not to.

I pour the hot water into my cup and set the timer for the steeping before turning on my phone. It immediately turns onto Twitter dms. Mark apparently sent me a message telling me to ‘have sweet dreams’, which I smile at. That’s really nice of him considering we didn’t really talk yesterday. Also it seems like Mark followed me on Twitter. I don’t give myself time to think about it and go onto my notes. I have a bunch of my books on here but I also have a list of cover ideas. The A Team, Remembering Sunday, Bedless; the list goes on until I get halfway through and remember Uma Thurman. There’s one cover idea, the other I can just get the AwesomenessTV Stage to send me film from when I perform. 

I grab a bagel for breakfast and my tea, heading to my recording room. While eating, I find instrumental for the song. I usually just use my own playing for covers because it’s easier to get the pace right but it’s quicker to just use other peoples’. I make sure to check and make sure that the creator gave permission for anyone to use it though. I quickly get dressed into my short sleeved red shirt that has an elastic around the waist to make the bottom flare out, and a pair of jeans. I also put on some socks, my bird necklace, and readjust my bracelets. Since my wrists are so small, I need to get the ones with the sliding knots so they'll actually fit. I have a black one with a circular charm and a white one with a gold infinity symbol. 

After putting on some foundation and mascara, I head back to my recording room. I have to reposition my light, get my microphone stand set up, and put my tripod into a position that gets a view of both my standing mic and I. It's much different to record like this than it is when I’m recording the piano as well as my singing. Once everything’s ready, I put on my headphones and start warming up. I usually skip warm ups because I’m lazy and find it takes too much effort but with faster songs, I really need it. 

Recording takes a few attempts but not as many as it did while doing It’s Over Isn't It. I put everything away and begin the editing process. This could wait until tomorrow or even the day after but I like doing both the recording and editing in the same day while the song is still fresh in my mind. I find that waiting makes me forget the tone I put into the song and editing is a lot harder. 

When I have the video set to upload, I lean back in my computer chair, letting out a breath of relief. I put both arms behind my head, glad that it's finally done. It's already twelve, meaning that took over two hours to finish. Gaming videos are easier to record but harder to edit while covers are a bit difficult to record and sometimes a pain to edit. I’m completely lost in thought when all of a sudden my chair lets out a snap and I’m sent falling backwards. 

“Ah,  _ fuck.”  _ I swear as my body hits the carpet. I guess the screw in the back of my chair came loose and finally let go.  I was doing  _ so good  _ at not being clumsy this morning but  _ of course  _ that can’t last. As the shock of falling leaves me, I notice that my arm feels really cold for some reason. I bite my lip and look down to see a stream of crimson blood coming from a cut which leads from my shoulder to almost my elbow. While I begin to understand what just happened, pain shoots through me. 

Dammit, I thought I fixed this stupid chair! I found a piece of metal sticking out from the fabric a while back but I put a piece of tape over it so I wouldn't do something like this. I guess it fell off during the move and I just didn't notice. I scramble to stand up, feeling panicky that the cut it so long. Once I’m finally to my feet, I open the second desk drawer with my hands trembling like crazy. The drawer has all my special effects makeup in it so as soon as it's open, the scent of liquid latex fills the room. Ignoring that, I pick up the old, black, tattered face cloth and push it against my wound. I'm good with special effects but real wounds make me dizzy. 

Speaking of dizziness, the world starts to tilt while my head spins. I know the cut isn't deep enough that I need stitches so I run to the bathroom and search the drawers for any large band aids. I have to do this carefully since my good arm is putting pressure onto the wound in attempt to stop losing blood, meaning I have to use my injured hand. I slam the last drawer in my bathroom shut and groan in frustration. Out of all the things I have, I don't have a fucking  _ band aid!  _ I'm clumsy to the point that I should have a cabinet completely filled with band aids! Running to the living room, I slip on my shoes and grab my small backpack with my keys. 

My mind is in a complete frenzy as I try to push the fact that I’m having a panic attack to the back of my thoughts. I step out into the hallway and turn back, grabbing the key for my apartment. My hand shakes, key clicking against the door knob while pain shoots up and down my arm. 

I can't take off my grip from the cloth or else I’ll get blood everywhere. I finally get the door locked and shove the key into my bag. I run to the elevator and click the button rapidly while tapping my foot against the floor. All I need to do is head to the store down the street and buy a band aid. I huff in annoyance and make my way to the staircase instead.

I take the first step and my foot slips from landing on the very edge of the stair. I shut my eyes tightly while feeling my body get closer to the floor. Suddenly, I come to a halt. My breathing comes out in short puffs while my heart pounds. Trying to take in my surroundings, I notice a pair of arms wrapped around my waist while I hear someone else’s breathing, a lot calmer than mine. I quickly step back and trip over the stairs behind me, falling into my butt. 

“Woah, careful there.” My breath hitches in my throat.  _ Oh fuck.  _ I stand up instantly and look up at the 5'10" man. My eyes widen at the sight of Mark, wishing that I’m elsewhere.  _ I should have waited for the elevator.  _ Speaking of the elevator, a ‘ding’ sounds out from above the stairs. 

“I-I, uh, I-I’m just g-going to..” I point behind me with my bad arm, wincing at the shock. I turn around and run back towards my apartment before he can say anything but I’m not even able to reach for my keys as a hand wraps around my good arm. 

“Days?” I inhale deeply and turn around to face Mark, biting my lip in worry. I look up but refuse eye contact. His face is filled with both confusion and worry as he looks at my arm. I turn my gaze to it as well, noticing my hand holding the cloth is covered with blood. Great, just great. 

“I-I have to go get a-a patch.” I say just loud enough to be heard. Even as I try to speak, my brain tries to focus on how Mark’s hand can almost fit fully around my forearm.  _ Now is not the time to think about anything other than fixing my arm _ . 

“You can't go outside with your arm looking like this, people will think you got stabbed. Is it deep enough to need stitches?” The concern in his voice shocks me but I still shake my head. It's just really long, not that deep. 

“Okay, that's good. I have a medical kit in my apartment.” I take a step back and Mark lets go. 

“I-I’m fine, r-really.” I try to give him a fake smile but it comes out as more of a wince. I can tell my arm isn't going to stop bleeding until I get something on it. 

“It's either you come in and let me help you or I  _ will  _ carry you in.” Mark crosses his arms over his chest and I can tell that it's not an empty threat. I sigh and shake my head but motion for him to lead the way. He smiles while I roll my eyes and follow him. Well, this isn't how I expected to meet Mark. Hell, before I moved here, I never planned on meeting him. Mark opens his door and waves for me to enter.

“So, what happened?” He asks while leading me to the bathroom. The apartment is actually the opposite of mine, which is really tripping me out. His apartment also looks a lot more homey than mine. If I had to guess, he's been living here for more than a year. Everything seems really in place, whether it's pictures or the games on his bookcase. We finally get to the bathroom he pats the sink counter.

“M-My chair broke.” I keep my explanation simple and drop my bag to the tiled floor. I then hoist myself onto the counter that reaches just under my chest. It's a lot more difficult to do this with only one hand but I manage. Mark places a white kit with a red cross next to me and starts searching through it.

“You're my clumsy neighbor then.” My face heats up as I watch him pull out a bottle and a cloth.

“Y-Yeah,” I respond sheepishly. I hand the cloth I’m holding over to Mark when he reaches for it, leaving the large cut out in the open. The bleeding slowed down a bit but it still looks terrible. It looks like something I made for a photoshoot when I was still in the program. I look away from it and stare at my blood covered hand. Biting my lip once more, I pretend it's fake blood. I guess he noticed because he turns on the faucet for me to wash my hand.

“This is going to sting a little but I need to clean it.” I put my hand under the lukewarm water and dig my nails into my palm the second Mark puts the cloth against my open wound. I trust him, I would have ran if I didn't, it's just that it stings badly. 

“Try not to hurt your other hand. Swear if you need too, I don't mind.” Well, he better not mind considering his videos consist of a lot of swearing. I detach my nails from my skin and focus on taking deep breaths instead. I feel like such a wuss, wincing at the small pain of the cleanser but I can’t help it. The room goes mostly silent except for the running water that I’m using to get the blood stains off my hand. When I finally get as much as possible off (there’s a small bit of staining left), I turn off the tap which leaves us with the sound of breathing and him wiping my cut.

“Did you know we were neighbours?” Mark’s voice goes serious and pierces through the silence like nothing. I knew this question was coming, I was just hoping for more preparation time.

“Y-Yeah,” I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, turning my attention to picking at the stained skin with the same hand it’s on. Anything is better than awkward eye contact.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I hold back a small laugh and close my hand into a fist, not digging my nails into my hand this time.

“H-Hey Mark, thanks for i-inviting me to your panel. By the way I-I live right next door to you. O-Or better yet; Hi, Mark. We’ve n-never talked before and you probably have never h-heard of me in your life but I-I heard you through my wall after I tripped and fell on my face.” My answer is surprisingly sarcastic, other than my stuttering. Mark finally puts down the cloth and lets out a chuckle.

“Is that why you didn’t answer the door when I came to check on you?” I shake my head, watching him searching for a band aid.

“I-I didn’t know at the time b-but that’s why I didn’t want to talk through the wall.” Mark holds one up to my cut and puts it back, knowing it’s too small.

“You know,” He starts but checks another bandage and realizes it’s long enough.

“You’re not very fast at closing curtains.” The sentence makes me pause for a second to think about what that could possibly mean. I look over at him to see a full, content smile growing on his face and realize what he means. My cheeks heat up as the memory of me seeing him outside replays in my head.

“O-Oh, u-uh-” I can’t seem to find a single thing I can use to defend myself. I know there was a logical reason for me to be looking outside, I just can’t quite remember what it was. I do know it wasn’t just to check out Mark. Even if it was my first time seeing him in real life.

“So you’re shy and blush easily. This is going to be a fun panel.” I put my right hand up and put it onto my one cheek, turning my head away. I’ve had a hard time with blushing a lot for as long as I can remember. I hear the rip of the seal for the patch coming off and feel the sticky part cling onto my arm.

“There we go! All patched up.” Mark shifts so he’s standing in front of me and I notice that his smile has grown.  _ Cheeky dick _ . He holds out a hand to assist me in getting off the counter.

“T-Thank you,” I say with complete honesty and slide off the counter with his help. If it wasn’t for him, I would be running down the street with people calling 911 to report that i got stabbed.

“Now, don’t trip or anything if you want that to heal by next week.” He comments and I glare at him, giving a fake ‘haha’. We head to his living room after I grab my bag again and I begin to have a cringe attack, feeling awful about how we met. I was hoping it would be backstage at the Markiplier And Friends Panel with a nice ‘hi my name is…’ introduction. Not me having a panic attack with a huge gash in my arm, tripping over stairs. 

“U-Um, can we try that introduction a-again? This time without all the blood?” I ask timidly, not wanting to get back to my apartment and feel like banging my head off a wall. Preferably not the same wall that he’s on the other side of. Mark stops walking and steps in front of me, causing me to stop as well. Now that everything’s calmed down, I can finally get a good look at him. He’s wearing his glasses today, sitting in front of his deep brown eyes. He has his normal light mustache and beard lining his jaw and upper lip. The green muscle tank with the Legend Of Zelda triforce on it really shows off his muscles, though it doesn’t help that he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Did you not like my gentle man manner of threatening to carry you here so I could fix your wound?” I look up at him and see that his face is completely serious. My eyes widen slightly and I push up my glasses before fidgeting with my necklace. I open my mouth to say something but close it almost immediately, not knowing  _ what  _ to say. A smile cracks onto his face, noticing my lack of response.

“I’m kidding, just be glad I had a shower at the gym.” Mark takes a pause and holds out a hand. I instinctively move back but realize that he’s just holding it out to shake. Once again, I trust him, I’m just not good with physical contact unless I really know a person. It makes things weird when fans ask for a hug or something, though it’s getting better.

“Hello, I’m Mark but people know me as Markiplier.” Mark drags on the ‘ier’ from ‘Markiplier’, causing me to smile back at him. If he noticed my original uneasiness, he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“H-Hey, I’m Cassidy b-but most people call m-me Days and know me as DaysToCome.” I reach up to shake his hand with my left and correct myself rather quickly, switching to my right when I realize I was using the wrong one. This time he laughs, noticing my failure.

“Do you want to stay a while? I have a little while before I have to record anything.” His question surprises me more than it probably should have. I mean, I am in his apartment and he isn't busy so it's probably just out of politeness that he's offering. I feel awkward sticking around considering he probably has a bunch of stuff to do before he records but at the same time, declining would be rude. Realizing that saying no would end in me banging my head against a wall, feeling stupid of how crude he would think I am. He invites me to a panel and I can't even spend an hour just hanging out with him?

“U-Uh, sure.” I manage to respond, hoping it wasn't too long of a pause where I was lost in my anxious thoughts. Mark's smile grows a bit at my response.

“Are you sure my  _ shortness _ won't make you uncomfortable?” I can't stop a small sound of awkwardness that leaves my mouth. I should have expected him to say that but it didn't really come to my mind. 

“You know w-what? Fight me.” I mutter, feeling my face heat up a bit. Mark raises an eyebrow and just stares at me in confusion for a second. 

“If I fought you, I’d win in five seconds. Then again, it'd be pretty funny. Anyways, do you like beverages? I know a café a little down the street that we can go to.” I give him a slight glare while he just smiles at me. Obviously he's not unconfident. I mean, it's probably true that he’d win but you never know unless you try. 

“Yes, beverages. Lead the way.” I kind of mutter, hoping that my blush will fade soon.  _ This is definitely not how I expected meeting him to go.  _ I wave my hand towards the entrance but he motions for me to go first. I fake bow, being careful of my arm, and head out the front door. Mark follows and locks his door behind us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's happened! They've finally met! In all honesty, I've had this part written for a while but I thought it was going to be part of a large chapter. Then I realized it would be over twice the size of a normal chapter so I split it in two. I'm so sorry for the wait between chapters but I also have two other books on the go, both that have not been posted anywhere. I hope to get the next chapter out soon but I can't promise a specific date. I hope you all have an amazing day!


	8. Chapter Eight ~ What A Strange, Strange Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could be better than hanging out with Mark and chatting about life?

“N-Now, you lead the way since I-I don’t know where we’re going.” Mark nods and we start walking back to the area where the elevator is. I’m pretty sure that I actually know where we’re going, though I don’t want to tell him that. I mean, if Elliot is there, he’s probably going to freak out in seeing the two of us together. No doubt, he’s going to be all over taking pictures and fangirling, even if it’s not in our view. He’s also going to text me later, teasing me about the situation. I’m just going to hope that either he’s not there right now or that Mark’s thinking about a different cafe.

“Can we take the stairs or will you trip over your own feet again?” He looks back at me and smiles, seeing my glare. We get down to the lobby without any difficulties and Mark holds the door for me to walk through.

“I hope you don’t mind a small walk, I promise it’s worth it. Actually, this area is rather clean, if you haven’t been exploring yet.” I thank him quietly for the door and we begin walking towards Elliot’s café. Taking in a deep breath, I try to calm myself from the still burning panic that rushes through my veins.

“I-I love walks.” I simply state, carefully shoving my hands into my pockets. He is right, I’ll admit. This is a surprisingly nice part of the city and I’m glad this is where I chose to be. Don’t get me wrong, there traffic isn’t exactly ‘light’ but it isn’t as heavy as the very heart of LA is. There’s also actually a good amount of trees, grass, and, if I recall correctly, a park nearby. There’s a fair amount of people walking along, possibly heading to the small mall a few blocks away. Everyone’s minding their own business, luckily, and no one seems to be recognizing either of us right now. I’m glad for that.

“So, have you been here before? I mean, not counting you moving here.” Mark asks, causing me to look up at him instead of at the ground. His cologne is rather strong; strong enough to make any small scents to seem non existent, but not strong enough to block out the smell of french fries from a small street vendor just across the road. In his defense, he did say he just got back from the gym. Not that I mind, the fragrance is surprisingly comforting.

“I, uh, I came here once t-to do special effects for the p-pilot of Supernatural. I-I was only here for a week a-and spent most of the time in the studio or at the hotel but I did get to go shopping and do a bit of sightseeing.” I take a hand out of my pocket and lightly scratch the back of my neck. It always makes me nervous to talk about my special effects to new people, mostly because a lot find it rather disturbing and think of me in a wrong way. Something about the thought of gore and me recreating the sight gives a certain opinion. Don't get me wrong, some find it intriguing or somehow interesting, just not the majority. Still, Mark has this smile on his face, one that says he doesn't mind or, at least, he doesn't take too much worry from it. Whether it's because he already knew or because he's heard much worse, I have no clue.

“Well, have you gone to see the Hollywood Walk of Fame yet?” Mark asks and I shake my head.

“No, I-I have a feeling I-I won't recognize half the n-names anyway.” Most of the stars contain the names a famous actors and I've never been one to memorize or particularly know most of them. I have a feeling the experience would go wasted on me.

“How about the Santa Monica Beach?” I shake my head once more, though I don't give a verbal response. He fake gasps, looking at me and mock surprise.

"Okay, okay. At least tell me you've been to Universal Studios!" I put on a fake thinking look before actually replying.

"Like I-I said, I-I haven't been very many places." Even after I say, he asks one more time.

"Disneyland? Come on you had to have gone to Disneyland!"

"Do you really want the answer to that?" Mark groans and kicks a rock, which hits the shoe of the lady walking in front of us. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Days, you are killing me! Have you done anything exciting here?” His exasperation sounds rather real now, as if it’s unheard of to come to LA and not do any tourism stuff. When I was working, we were on set from eight in the morning to, sometimes, midnight. I didn’t have time to take off and actually look around.

“I-I did a lot of sightseeing i-in London.” I say, in a way, trying to say that I’m not completely boring. Then again, most of the sightseeing was for projects, studying of people, or being told that if I didn’t get out at least twice a week, I would be kicked out of the program. I wasn’t surprised when they told me that since the only time I left my assigned apartment was to head to the work area that we needed to be at or to buy groceries. I also didn’t talk to anyone in the program and they were really surprised when I actually spoke for the first time.

“Okay, you and I have a lot to see at some point. That is, if you want to.” I look up at Mark, my face heating slightly. Is he really offering to show me around LA? I check his face to see any sort of joking look but he simply smiles, looking completely serious. I take a second to think through my response so that I don’t just end up rambling on and looking like an idiot.

“D-Don’t you want to make s-sure you actually like my company before o-offering something l-like that?” I ask, figuring that’s the best response. I don’t want him to offer and then find out he actually hates me. He’d probably still go through with it out of courtesy and I don’t want to burden him like that. I notice that we are reaching the shopping area, meaning that we’re almost at the Cozy Café.

“In that case, let’s hang out here for a little while and get to know each other. When we get back to our apartments, we can make a mutual decision.” Mark opens the door to the shop and the small of coffee hits me once again.

“Ladies first,” He waves me in and I giggle but thank him, heading in. Luckily, there aren’t as many people here as there were last time. I make sure that Mark made it inside safely before heading up to the empty counter. The same girl that took my order yesterday is standing at the till and we smile at each other.

“Hey, you’re the girl with the ukulele, right? What can I get you?” She asks, energy bubbling. She seems so happy with her job while I don’t want to get out of bed most days. I read her name tag that tells me her name is Melody. For some reason, that name really fits her.

“Y-Yeah, can I have a medium hot chocolate, please?” I order the same thing I did yesterday and pull out my wallet out of my bag to pay.

“And one of my usuals.” Mark interrupts and steps in front of me, handing the girl a five dollar bill. I step beside him, feeling awkward as I do. I don’t care for people paying for my stuff, it just makes me feel overly awkward.

“Oh, I-I can p-” I’m cut off by him putting his hand on my mouth, much to my surprise. My eyes widen but it quiets me, which I guess was his intention. I grab his hand and move it, stepping back as I do. Raising my hands in defense, I can’t help but let out a small sound in awkwardness. Giving up rather quickly, I put my wallet back into my bag so I don't forget it.

“I got this one, don’t worry about it. Oh, and a bit of extra sugar in mine, please.” Mark smiles at the waitress and receives his change.

“Of course, I’ll get those for you right now.” Melody turns and begins working on the machines while Mark turns back to me. His smile seems like he’s extremely accomplished by paying for the drinks but I shake my head at him, suppressing a smile of my own. He’s a strange guy, that’s for sure.

“You don’t like coffee?” He asks, leaning against the counter with his elbow propping him up. The scent of coffee doubles as I watch Melody pour some into a cup and put a lid on it. That was rather quick to make; I wonder what he even gets. Then again, mine is rather simplistic also.

“Nah, hot chocolate i-is where it’s at.” I reply is a slightly joking manner. I return my gaze from the barista to Mark once more, trying not to seem rude. I’m just really bad at keeping eye contact with people. Despite the fact that we just met in an awful manner, he seems really kind about it and doesn’t hold it against me. He lets out a fake gasp and throws his hand over his heart.

“How dare you speak such words! Coffee is so much better.” Mark throws his head back and I giggle slightly. I’m glad that there’s not too many people in here or there would be a lot of staring from his sudden outburst.

“Here you are!” Melody chimes in, her hair, now pulled into a ponytail, sways as she puts the drinks on the counter next to Mark’s arm. Thanking her once more, he picks up both cups and starts walking towards one of the empty tables. I follow behind, throwing the girl a smile over my shoulder, which she returns. We sit down at a small, two person table close to the counter and I take my bag off my shoulder, hanging it on the back of my chair. Mark smells one of the cups and hands me the other. I thank him quietly and take the cup, sipping the hot chocolate. I can’t help but cringe back at the drink as it burns my tongue and put it down on the small wooden table for later. Mark, on the other hand, takes a large sip of his without any trouble. I wonder if his is just cooler than mine or if he just doesn’t really care.

“Have you ever been to Vidcon before?” He asks, putting his cup down also. It’s fairly quiet in here other than the soft radio music playing in the background. It must not be an open mic day, meaning no one has to worry about bad covers from locals.

“No, I-I don’t usually go t-to conventions. I-I’m either too busy o-or I don’t have money for it.” I explain, moving the white cup back and forth in my hands. The warmth is slightly uncomfortable as it is mid summer, though it feels nice against my always cold hands.

“My first convention was the same. It’s pretty scary at first but the second all these people recognize you, it’s the best thing in the world. I remember being so shocked that so many people asked for pictures and autographs.” I stare at him, watching his brown eyes sparkle at the memory. I’ve heard many YouTubers talk about their first conventions the same way. It’s that moment when all those numbers become actual human beings. I haven’t had that moment yet, if it’s going to happen at all. Maybe my anxiety just takes the enjoyment of realization.

“I-I’m hoping it’ll go well.” I take another sip of my drink to ease the awkwardness of the conversation but flinch again, forgetting the heat that still hasn’t changed.

“What’s your schedule look like?” Mark asks, watching me put my drink back on the table. In a way, I feel like he’s studying me. Like he’s trying to figure out just exactly who I am and what my personality is. I’m sure that he hasn’t been watching my videos for long, if at all. He probably searched me up when Vidcon gave me as an addition to their panel. That’s a good thing, though, because if he went further into my content, I’d be embarrassed. Some of my old covers and videos aren’t really my most impressive pieces.

“Well, uh, t-the prep day I-I’m performing at the AwesomenessTV stage. T-Then the first day is with you. Second day I-I have a Q and A a-at eleven and the last day I-I’m gaming at one.” I try to explain with little detail so that my answer isn’t too long. I look up from the cup in my hands and notice this certain grin on his face. That grin that is just slightly devious. I narrow my eyes at him, knowing that he’s planning something.

“What’s with t-that smirk?” I ask, watching him very carefully. I don’t quite trust Mark yet and I don’t know where his boundaries are. It takes quite a bit to trust anyone and, even though he helped fix my arm, I’m still weary about his actions. Mark shifts his grin into a look of innocence.

“What ever are you talking about?” I roll my eyes at his innocent act but shrug it off. I’m hoping that he isn’t actually planning anything and if he is, that it isn’t anything bad.

“What about you? What’s your schedule?” I change the topic back to Vidcon, feeling more comfortable with it than with whatever else we were just talking about. The door jingles as it opens and I look over my shoulder to see a teenage girl and boy walk in, hand in hand. They both laugh and walk over to the counter, luckily not noticing the two of us sitting here. Not that they would know us if they saw us, it’s just that I’d rather not take that risk. I love my subscribers with every ounce of my being but dealing with having a conversation with Mark is way more socializing than I can really handle right now.

“Mine’s a lot longer than yours, are you sure you want to hear it?” He questions, raising an eyebrow at me. Once more, I shrug.

“I-It’s not like we’re really doing anything i-important and t-time reliant.” I feel myself relaxing more and more in his presence, which is slightly unnerving. Usually it takes me days, sometimes weeks, to be comfortable in front of someone. It’s only be an hour, I should still be a ball of anxiety!

“Fair enough. First day I have a signing at ten before the panel with you, Jack, and Wade. Day two I have Gaming For Good at nine and an interview at 1:30. The last day I’m at the Snickers Stage at nine, a Q and A at three, and a signing at 5:30. Oh, I don’t have anything on the prep day. I forgot to say that.” My eyes widen at how much he has to do in just three days. If I remember the size of the building correctly, he’s going to have to run to make it to some of his things. I was shocked at how many stages I’m a part of, especially for it being my first year as a featured creator. Mark, on the other hand, has been going to Vidcon for a few years so I guess they have a lot of trust in his responsibilities.

“Wait a second,” He snaps me out of my small trance of thinking with his words and I look back up at him. I find myself instinctively looking at my hot chocolate every time we aren’t speaking. I’m rather bad at maintaining eye contact with anyone. I let out a questioning hum, showing him that I’m listening.

“Don’t you have an interview at some point?” I scrunch up my nose at his question, not quite understanding what he’s trying to get at. I slowly shake my head, wondering if there’s some type of trick to this. Nowhere on my schedule did it ever say I have an interview.

“No? Almost every creator gets interviewed other than those who decline it. They didn’t even ask you if you wanted one?” I open my mouth the reply but another, semi-deep voice beats me to it.

“Yeah, she does have one. Hers is about three-ish hours after yours.” I look over at the tall, raven haired boy, who seems to be containing his excitement rather terribly. I can practically see him jumping up and down.

“N-No I don’t.” I say, trying to correct his statement. I was never told I had an interview.

“Didn’t you take Bob’s spot on some panels? He had his interview around that time. Also, hey Elliot. Long time, no see.” Mark waves at El and he waves back, much giddier than the last time that I saw him.

“I know, man, it’s been a whole hour. That’s such a long time.” I feel my heart rate pick up at the thought of me being stupid and not reading a whole part of my schedule. I couldn’t have missed that, could I? I pull my phone out of my pocket, careful not to hurt my arm in the process. I quickly check the email from Vidcon, reading it twice over but nowhere does it say anything about an interview.

“Elliot, a-are you sure I-I have an interview?” I ask, making sure they’re not still chatting beforehand. I’d feel rude if I interrupted their conversation. Elliot looks over at me, tilting his head slightly to the left.

“Yeah, it says so on the schedule. I checked when I heard you were being featured.” I let out a hum once more in response and make a mental note to email Vidcon and do a check on that. I’m really glad that Mark brought it up or else I would have probably missed it, if I have one that is. That would not have made a very good first impression.

“I’m actually so excited to see the two of you here together. I’ve met each of you but this is just amazing. You know Days was here when you asked her to hang out. I could not believe that she said no it was the stupidest thing ever. Then I told her about the sh - Elliot!” I cut off his rambling, my face heating up. Telling Mark that I was here when it happened is embarrassing enough but whatever he was going to say could only make matters worse. Mark starts chuckling, seeing me glaring at El. At least it’s a genuine laugh and not a creeped out laugh.

“I see Elliot told you about the ship. Damn, I was hoping to see your face when you found out. Please tell me she blushed like crazy.” I turn my glare over to Mark but he’s looking at Elliot, waiting for a response.

“Oh yeah, cherry red, just like your hair. It looked really cute actually. I wish I took a picture of it.” They both laugh as I groan in embarrassment and shove my face into the the crook of my elbow. Why do people decide to make me feel awkward? I feel a hand on my back and can tell it’s Elliot’s.

“Awe, Days. Don’t be too flustered. When I told Mark I saw you - Elliot.” Mark attempts to interrupt him but I wave for El to continue.

“ - He dropped his coffee onto the floor it spilt all over his pants. Luckily it was getting cold and he didn’t get burnt.” I can’t help but break into a fit of laughing, imagining Mark’s surprise. I lift my head up to look at Mark who’s, surprisingly, simply smirking at me. He doesn’t seem to be at all embarrassed over it, unlike me. Maybe I’m just overreacting because of my lack of social skills. Then he smirks. I don’t know what that smirk means but Mark has it.

“Yeah, well, at least I didn’t fall for her.” I glare at him, knowing where he’s going with this. The heat rises to my cheeks, nonetheless. I look over at Elliot, who seems really confused at Mark’s choice of words.

“What?” He questions, though he leaves out the ‘t’ of the word in the process. I glare at Mark for what seems like the hundredth time in the last few hours. Instead of looking at El, Mark keeps smirking at me.

“Days fell for me pretty badly when we met.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elliot look like he’s going to scream from excitement but as soon as he opens his mouth, I interrupt.

“I fell down the staircase. I-I didn’t even know he was there.” I make sure to add that I didn’t see him there or else the fanboy might get the wrong idea and think I tripped after seeing Mark. That’d probably be as equally as embarrassing as what actually happened, to be honest.

“Oh, she’s right. She fell right into me and I had to catch her so that we didn’t both fall back.” Mark’s smile only grows more and he lets out a laugh as I cover my face with my hands. My face has to be the same colour as his hair by this point, just as Elliot described my reaction at finding out about the ship. I move my fingers just enough to look out at El, who looks like he’s about to faint from the new information he just received. I can see why. He’s friends with the two YouTubers that make up his biggest ship and he’s hearing about how they met right from them. Not only did they meet, but they met because one of them pulled a cliche and fell into the other. I’d be the same way if I was in his position.

“I-I feel like we should change the subject before Elliot fanboys t-too hard.” I suggest and Mark finally looks away from me. There’s a moment where none of us say anything while Elliot attempts to calm himself down. I’d rather we didn’t cause a huge commotion in the café. That and I need a minute to get my face back to its normal colour.

“Days,” Elliot drags out my name, bringing my attention back to him.

“Elliot,” I mimic his tone, mine with more humour. He kneels down next to the table. He's just tall enough that he can lean on his arm while sitting up straight, looking at me with puppy dog eyes.

“Can you please play a song. It's been so boring but I don't want to do open mic.” He drags out a few of the words, acting as if it's going to be the end of the world if I don't play. I can't help but giggle at him. Under any other circumstance I would agree instantly but knowing Mark’s here changes everything. I’m scared that I’ll screw up and he'll laugh at me. Or, even worse, he doesn't actually like my music and I basically torture him.

“Please, for me?” El bats his eyelashes and rolls so the back of his heads against the table. I’m really glad he didn't knock over any drinks. Not because I’d be mad if I lost my drink, which I wouldn't be, but just for the fact that he'd probably get burnt and I’d hate to see that.

“I-I don't even have any o-of my i-instruments.” I tell him, using basically the only excuse I have other than straight up saying ‘no’, which I’d feel bad doing. El finally drops his pout and gives me a smirk.

“I keep a guitar in the back room.” He states and I can't help but roll my eyes. Of course he has a guitar here.

“Do you have a-a capo?” I ask reluctantly. I'm not going to decline because I’m scared. I’ve learned the hard way that letting my anxiety control me leads to nothing. El’s face beams and he runs off behind the counter. I sigh lightly and Mark laughs. I look at him and raise an eyebrow, noticing that he's watching me in amusement.

“What?” I question, leaning my head on my hand and taking a sip of my drink. Luckily this time it's cool enough to not burn my taste buds. Mark shakes his head at me, still lightly chuckling.

“You're too nice to say no.” He states and twists the cup around in his hand, determining if there’s still coffee in it or not. When he realizes there’s a small bit left, he finishes it off. Not having an answer to it, I open my mouth, hoping that some sort of comeback will randomly appear. Much to my relief, Elliot comes back and cuts me off before I can say anything.

“I got it, I got it! Let me just introduce you.” He hands me a plain beige guitar with a black capo attached to the third fret already. I take it by the neck and stand up to walk to the stage, though Elliot’s already at the mic, setting up a stool. Be clears his throat before beginning.

“Hello to the people here. I’m Elliot, as most of you know and I’m here to introduce our only act. Here today are two of my favourite YouTubers; Markiplier and DaysToCome. Mark doesn't really have anything to do with this but I still think it's really cool. Anyways, I have convinced Days to play us a song...or two?” He turns to look at me, wiggling his eyebrows. With my free hand, I put up one finger, mouthing the number. Elliot’s a sweetheart but I can only take so much anxiety in one day. As I’m walking to head on stage, a hand wraps around my arm. I look to my left to see Mark looking right back at me.

“Are you sure you can play with your arm like that?” He asks and I nod. It's cute that he's concerned.

“I-I’m fine,” I whisper back and go take a seat on the stool in front of the microphone. I position the guitar on my lap, adjusting the capo to sixth. I move my fingers into the different chords, making sure that I know them all properly. It's not an electric acoustic guitar but in such a small space, acoustic will sound nice. This guitar is a bit bigger than mine, though I did spent three years playing on a guitar that was quite a considerable difference from the size that I need for my hands.

“Um,” I begin into the mic, making sure I know how loud I’m going to be. The good thing is that it doesn't make that cliche screeching sound that it does in movies when the person is awkward. I feel my anxiety spike, looking around at the ten strangers in the room. It's not a big crowd, though it's enough to make me anxious.

“Well, I-I guess I don’t really need to introduce myself so I-I’ll just get right into it. This i-is my cover of Walk On Water Or Drown.” I hear Elliot cheer and I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Sometimes I forget how much people actually enjoy my music. I start the song, shakily. Stagefright has always been my worst enemy when it comes to my career. My voice takes a second to find the key, knowing that I haven’t played this song in quite a while. I look around the room, trying to read the audience’s reaction. Some haven’t even looked up from their phones, others are bobbing their heads along to the beat, and then there’s Elliot and Mark. Elliot’s doing some type of dance move that I’m sure he made up himself, looking as happy as can be. I almost laugh at the sight but simply smile and keep singing. Despite that, I can’t help but feel a little more comfortable and relax my voice a bit.

Then my eyes meet Mark’s. He has his chin leaning against his arm, watching me with a small smile on his face. Something about his expression says nothing, yet everything, all at once. I can tell that he’s enjoying it, by all means, but at the same time, he seems to be lost in something else. Maybe it’s just that my music isn’t the same as he likes to listen to and he simply let his mind wander while I’m performing. I wouldn’t blame him. I can carry a tune but I’m not the type of person to get the audience hyper and jumping around. I finally pull my eyes away and look out the window and into the street for the last little bit of the song.

As I strum the last note of the song, I can’t help but feel relieved. I can’t believe that I’m going to be performing to a crowd over ten times as big as this one in a few days. Dear god, why aren’t I more prepared? I play in front of a camera, knowing that more than a hundred thousand people are going to see, but at least then I have the security of deleting the file and refilming. If I’m playing live, it’s a shot in the dark and a hope that I don’t mess up too badly. I slip off the guitar and place it onto the stand that’s just off to the side while the crowd claps. Of course, Elliot is cheering rather than just clapping, like the goofball he is. I give everyone a smile and go sit down again, taking a sip of my cooling drink.

“God, I’m still not use to hearing you live. It’s so much more satisfying than hearing it recorded. I’m super excited to see you perform on Tuesday. I’ll be the guy in the front, screaming the loudest.” I can’t help but giggle at him. He seems so dedicated to my music and I never expected that to be possible. Even with how long I’ve been doing this, my self-confidence is still so low. My anxiety always tells me that they’re just being nice. It surprises me when I hear Mark’s voice chime in.

“I have to agree with El here. I’d take hearing you play live over videos any day. Actually, I heard you singing at one point while I was recording. My headphones fell off and I would have survived if you didn’t distract me.” Mark fake scolds me, wiggling his index finger in my direction. I quickly put my hands up in defense, feeling myself get slightly embarrassed at the fact that Mark heard me through his wall, singing.

“H-Hey, it’s not my fault you were recording a-at the same time I-I was.” I defend myself, giving him a small smile. This is going better than I expected it to go. The second Mark asked to hang out, I was so scared that he’d hate me by the end of it but it actually feels, in a way, natural. It’s so much easier to talk to him than some of the other people I’ve met and I can even tell my stuttering is getting better. I don’t stutter all the time, just when my anxiety is really high or I’m fairly nervous. When I first meet someone, I can’t stop the stutter but if I begin to feel comfortable, I can talk normally. Obviously I’m not completely comfortable around him yet, though it’s getting there.

“Are you guys going to do a video together? I’d love to see Mark do a cover and Days play prop hunt?” Elliot suggests and I look over at Mark for help with a reply. We met barely over an hour and a half ago, we haven't really talked about videos or anything. Hell, we barely even talked about Vidcon. I notice Mark’s eyes widen and he checks his phone, cursing under his breath.

“Speaking of videos, I forgot that I’m supposed to be recording in ten minutes. I’m really sorry but if you want to walk back together, we have to head out now.” He stands up and I follow his lead, chugging down the last quarter of my hot chocolate that I have. I also fling my bag back over my shoulder, careful to not hit my wound. Honestly, I’ll do anything to get back to my closed off apartment so I don't have to be around people. Don't get me wrong, Elliot and Mark are great but I’ve spent so long alone that this amount of time around people is starting to give me a headache.

“Yeah, I-I have to get some things i-in order for Vidcon. I-I’ll see you later, Elliot.” I feel bad for lying to him but it was partially true because I want to email them about the interview.

“‘Later, El.” Mark waves over his shoulder, tossing his cup into the garbage as he passes. He throws his arm over my shoulder, grabbing my cup from me as he does and putting it into the garbage as well. My eyes widen and I look behind me at Elliot for any type of assistance, though he just winks as he sees my pleading gaze. I'll curse him out for that later. We walk onto the street, the chilled breeze hitting my bare skin on my shoulders. I shiver and can feel the goosebumps rising on one arm, the other being heated by Mark's side. It's always been that it takes a very high temperature to make me feel hot but I get cold rather quickly. If there's one thing I hated about Canada, it was the winters. I always had to wear a heavy sweater whenever it went into the negatives.

I can't help the part of me that is enjoying the feeling of his contact. Despite the awkwardness of it, it's comforting to know I'm not alone. Being in public makes my anxiety spike but having someone there with me eases it a bit. The only worry I have is if any fans see us and decide to make any assumptions about our relationship. Luckily, the streets still seem rather empty aside from the odd adult running around. As long as no one around our age and younger come around, I'm sure we won't have any problems getting home without any interruptions. Like I said, I just want to go home and be alone for a while.

"So, did my height make you uncomfortable today?" Mark brings me out of my thoughts and I groan. Maybe being alone would be better than having him here. I'm kidding, of course, but he still makes me want to roll my eyes. He's such a dork.

"You're not going to let t-that go, are you?" I ask, though I already know the answer. Mark takes his free hand and scratches his chin for a moment, humming.

"Nope," He finally decides and I actually roll my eyes this time. Despite my slight annoyance, I watch him smile down at me with a little bit of a sparkle in his brown eyes. Yep, he's a complete dork.

"When Elliot told me that he met you, I was pretty surprised." He confesses, randomly changing the topic. I don't mind, I didn't care for the other one anyways. I feel more comfortable talking about this than my stupid statement I made while trying way too hard to be funny.

"Oh?" I question, not really knowing how else to respond. Small talk has never been my greatest strength. Actually, talking has never been my greatest strength. Well, talking to people at least. Then again, it took me a long time to get good at talking to a camera also.

"Yeah, there are only a handful of apartments around here and not many people drive just to get to this area. I still feel like I should have probably realized who you were when I heard you singing through the wall." He laughs at himself and we cross the street at one of the lights. I can't stop myself from giggling back at him. From what people have told me, I have a fairly recognizable singing voice.

"I-It took me until last Friday when a-a bunch of my viewers t-told me during a stream. T-This is after we talked through the wall a-a bunch." I tell him, trying to make him feel a bit better. I'm sure that he hasn't known of my channel for very long so he has that excuse. Me, I've been watching his videos for years. I should have noticed a lot sooner. Then again, I knew there was something familiar about his voice. I just kind of figured it was my imagination or brought on by my anxiety. My logic was that it was probably my brain trying to help me get use to such a different place and bringing in some sort of familiar person to let me settle better. Obviously I was wrong. Very wrong.

"Wait," I look up at Mark to find him staring at me, confusion etched in his eyes.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" The slight betrayal in his voice sends a pang to my heart. I understand why he would feel this way. After all, the people that told me were watching both our streams but only informed me that I accidentally moved in next to another YouTuber. He is the more popular one out of the two of us, a part of him is probably thinking that he should have been informed first. I don't blame him.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I told them not to. I figured that it would be really awkward a-and you'd think I was stalking you or something. I-I swear I wasn't, it was a complete accident that I-I moved in next door. Also, I didn't think you'd even know who I am." I slightly mutter the last part to myself and play with my bracelets to push my anxiety away. It helps me to distract myself which has led to me beginning to fidget with whatever jewelry I have on at the time. Luckily, we turn to head into the apartment building, meaning this won't be awkward much longer.

"It's fine, I see where you're coming from. I guess it doesn't really matter anymore now that we both know. Grab the door." He finally drops his arm and puts the key into the lock to buzz us in. As asked, I open the door and we both head towards the staircase. I'm glad that he understands and we're not in this huge disagreement right now. I'm not good with conflict and would probably just start crying, to be completely honest.

"How's your arm?" Mark questions as we begin our ascent. I move my left shoulder in a circular motion and only feel a slight burn of pain in response. It's a lot better now that the original anxiety has worn off. It's not that bad, there was just quite a bit of blood. Speaking of blood, you can see a bit of red staining the white cotton through the plastic.

"I-It's fine. I-I'll go get some more bandages before my stream tonight a-and re-patch it tomorrow. Thank you a-again." I keep my eyes trained on the wooden stairs, being extra careful not to slip up. There's been enough injury today, no need for anymore. That along with the fact that I would prefer not to look up at Mark for the time being.

"It was really no problem. Trust me, I'd prefer to help rather than let you run around the area in that state. Wait, you're streaming tonight? What time?" My eyes widen for a moment as I feel myself slipping but quickly grab onto the railing. I don't think he noticed. Well, I'm hoping he didn't, anyways. My mind blanks for a second from the slight panic but it doesn't take too long for the question to click in.

"Oh, uh, I usually start at five a-and end at nine." It should be an instant reaction for me to say those times, though it's changed a lot since I started preparing for the move, which was over a month ago. With all of the packing and preparing, most streams have been either shorter or start at a way later time. Because of that, it's been all mixed up in my head. It's fine, though, I still have them memorized.

"Alright, I'll be sure not to be to loud in my recording room at that time. But you have to be quiet from three to five. Deal?" I let out a sigh in relief as we reach our floor and begin walking to our apartments.

"Deal," I reply. It's a fair trade and should keep me out of trouble when it comes to my fans. I'm glad that he's not streaming today, like he was last week. I just want to brush the whole 'being neighbours' thing aside while I get ready for Vidcon. We stop right in front of my door and I reach back with my good arm, grabbing my keys from the front pouch. I'm glad they didn't fall out at some point during all of this considering it's not the most trusted pocket in my bag with only Velcro to hold it closed.

"So, after these few hours of hanging out, would you like me to show you around the city at some point? No pressure, it's cool if you don't want to. If you do, though, I promise it will be a good time." Mark smiles down at me and I can feel my cheeks heating up. Something about that smile just makes my heart flutter in some weird, stupid way. It's different from most of the time when I just feel extremely anxious or numb. It makes me...feel. Part of me likes it, a lot, but another part of me is terrified by this new feeling. For years it's been anxiety, sadness, and numbness. This is special. It's good. Then again, it's different and different scares the hell out of me. That doesn't stop me from smiling back at this man I've only known through YouTube for so long.

"I-I'd like that." I answer, not giving myself too long to think about it. I don't want to give myself time to second guess it. At my response, his smile widens and mine does also.

"That's great! I promise you won't regret it! We'll make plans after the convention to do that. I do have to go though, I'm already kind of late for the recording session." He gives me a slight wave and I tilt my head, watching him walk backwards towards his apartment.

"I'll send you my number so we don't have to message on Twitter anymore. Buh-bye!" Mark smiles once more and I let out a huff of a laugh as he goes inside. What a strange, strange man. A strange man that makes me feel. What is wrong with me? I roll my eyes at myself and shake my head. I'm such a weird, messed up person. I shouldn't even bother asking that question anymore. I finally unlock my door and walk inside, preparing for my stream before I have to head to the store.

What a strange man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last! I've been working on this chapter for quite a while now and it's finally finished! I've been really busy with my other book, which is a personal one that hasn't been posted anywhere. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and have a great day!


	9. Chapter Nine ~ Store Trips And Emptiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days decides a trip to the grocery store is needed, despite wanting nothing more than to stay in bed, sleeping, all day. Elliot comes along for the fun of it. 
> 
> *The italicized parts are her negative thoughts that are a combination of depression and anxiety. I don't think there are any trigger warnings here but there is self-doubt and a lot of bring downs from herself.*

Do you ever have that feeling where you just want to throw your pillow over your head and block out the world for the whole day? Man, am I ever having one of those. I’ll admit that the stream last night sucked pretty badly. With only a few hours between hanging out with Mark and hanging out with over a hundred thousand people, I felt disgusting. I had to answer the question about my arm several times before I finally just put on a sweater. Fans joked about if I’d met Mark yet and I lied, saying that it hasn't happened. I also put my chair back together before the stream, though that didn't take too long.

I promised that we would get to a certain point in Outlast Two before I ended the stream but that took me longer than I expected. I picked a horror game mostly because this way I knew I wouldn't need to act happy. Then I remembered that I still needed to eat supper since I didn't have time to do that before I started. Hell, absolute hell. Even so, I love my subscribers and if I make a promise, I keep it to the best of my ability. I managed to keep a fair expression for the whole time; I think, at least. Anyways, I didn't get to sleep until about one in the morning.

A part of me knows that I need to get stuff done today but the other part of me is just begging for me to crazy glue myself to these sheets and stare at a wall the whole day. That part’s probably my depression and I know that fully well. I push the power button on my phone, my screen filled with notifications and the time displaying that it's already eleven. I need to get up. I hate being an actual adult. _Ugh_.

I throw my covers off of me and force myself to get up. While I shuffle into the kitchen, I make myself a mental list. First thing’s first, make a bagel. I love bagels. I toss that into the toaster and pull my long, knotted hair into a messy bun. After grabbing a plate along with the peanut butter, I change my hair into a ponytail. Even though my hair is thin, it's too long to wear it like that without it pulling on my scalp unless some sort of sorcery occurs. I can't help but jump at the sound of my toaster popping. _I’m not awake enough for this. I should just go back to sleep._

Grabbing my breakfast, I head to my recording room. Second on my list is waking myself up enough that I can write a letter to whoever is answering emails for Vidcon. I plug in my set of headphones and turn on my computer. The only thing that keeps me awake while everything is setting up is munching on my peanut butter bagel. _I should probably start cutting back my diet or I’m going to start gaining weight._ No, my metabolism is fine and my diet is good enough. I’m getting everything I need from what I eat.

I turn on some loud Piece The Veil to get my brain moving and go onto Twitter. I take note that I have a dm from Mark. He sent me his number, just like he said he would. I quickly put it into my contacts list and debate messaging him to make sure he has mine too. _He just saw me yesterday, he's probably sick of me right now_. I decide to push that off until later. Actually, I had fun yesterday, for the most part. I’m surprised he wants to show me around LA after how awkward I was. _Pity_.

Moving on, I begin to reply to a few tweets. With everything coming and going, I haven't really had time to communicate with my audience much. It's kind of sad, actually. I’ve always been surprised at how nice everyone is when they comment on my videos; whether it's about the video itself or to others. _I still don't know why they like my videos so much_. About an hour passes before I decide I’m alive enough to move on with my life. I still feel numb, though.

Getting down a rough draft for the letter takes me an hour by itself. Editing takes another half an hour. _It sounds whiny. Bitchy. Rude. Ignorant. Lack of detail. Too much detail_. Basically all the letter asks is if I do have an interview, if so, when, and if they are recording the singers on the prep day and, if so, may I have a copy of mine. It really shouldn't have taken as long as it did. _Maybe I’m more stupid than the regular human being_. Ugh. Okay, I need to keep moving.

My phone goes off the second I set my headphones onto my desk. Once again, I jump. _I’ll just ignore it, I’m sure it can wait_. I’m about to leave it there when the same tone goes off twice more. I roll my eyes but check it anyways. The notification turns out to be a text message from Elliot. _He's only talking to be because I’m a fair sized YouTuber_. I groan at myself and unlock my phone.

‘Days!’

‘Dayssss!’

‘Come onnnn, answer me woman!’ I can't help but smirk at my screen. Elliot’s a pretty weird guy but, while I don't feel extremely close to him, I feel like we're friends. _That's something I never say._

‘Hey, Elliot. What do you need?’ My thumb hovers open the send button. _That sounds rude and bitchy_. I shake my head and delete the second sentence before sending it. I only make it to the hallway when I get a reply.

‘There you are! I was scared I had the wrong number or something. So, how did it go with Markimoo?’ Taking a second to think, I head into my room to get changed. As I found out while making my bagel, I need to go get some groceries. It shouldn't be too much, though I know at least five things I don't have that I need. _Or I could just go back to bed, then I wouldn't need anything_.

‘If you meet me at Bellara Street in half an hour, I’ll tell you then. If not, I’ll tell you later. I need to go grocery shopping.’ Part of me hopes that he'll agree and met up with me a street over. At least then I’ll have enough motivation to actually go. If not, I fear I _will_ actually go back to bed. I quickly grab a loose Pierce The Veil t-shirt, underwear, and a pair of plain blue jeans that are covered in dried liquid latex. Then again, there are also a bunch of stains of blue and red from my special effects makeup. I can't be bothered to try today. _If I look awful then so be it._

‘I’ll be there!’ The left side of my lip tugs up slightly into a smirk that only lasts a second before falling. I crumple my clothes up into one hand and go to the bathroom. I turn the shower on to an almost burning warm temperature, though I don't change it. I leave my stuff on the small counter top and throw my pajamas into a corner behind the door. Before jumping into the water, I take note that there is quite a bit of laundry since I haven't done any since I moved here over a week ago. _I can do it another day._

I let the hot water sting my skin, causing it to turn a rather unpleasant red. Even as it begins to hurt, I keep it as it is. Something about it calms me. _Maybe it's being able to feel something other than numb and anxious._ I hate today and it's only one thirty. There's a little voice in the back of my head saying I should phone in to get my old anxiety and depression medication, though I push it away instantly. The side effects on those only make everything worse.

I quickly wash up and jump out of the shower. Ten minutes with my thoughts is more than enough time. My skin itches and stings slightly but I ignore it, knowing it will go away in a little while. Looking down, I roll my eyes at the practically destroyed patch on my arm. The sticky part looks like it's going to let go at any second and I can still see red in the cotton. I rip it off, not even noticing if it hurt or not. The colour different from where the patch was to where the water hit is a rather large difference, so much so that I flinch back. Then again, I’ve always had sensitive skin.

The wound itself looks irritated but at least clotted. I don't think it's going to start bleeding again any time soon. I flex my upper arm slightly and the scab brakes, allowing little beads of blood to break through. _Or maybe I’m a complete idiot that was absolutely wrong_. _Yep, that's it_. I take another bandage out of one of the cupboards and put it on over the healing cut. I went out and bought myself a bunch of band aids before the stream last night. I also changed the one that Mark put on because it was basically soaked in blood. _I’m over exaggerating again, just like I always do._

I get dressed and stick my soaked hair into another ponytail. _It's not like it's going to dry any time soon anyways_. I debate taking off my bracelets and drying them a bit, though it seems pointless. They'll dry on my wrist just fine. Grabbing my bag on the way out, I lock my door and leave the building. Luckily Mark isn't anywhere to be found and I seem to be in too much of a mood to lose my balance. I guess that's a good thing. As I leave the building, I groan at the bright sunlight. I like the dark a lot better.

It's a nice day out. The birds are chirping and hopping around the sidewalks, the temperature is not too hot but not too cold, even the people walking around seem a bit happier. Despite that, I can't seem to enjoy any of it. I jaywalk to the other side of the road, not really caring a car is a fair distance away, even though I would normally freak out. The sooner I get to the store, the sooner I can lock myself away in my apartment once more. I begin my walk across the little park to where I told Elliot I would meet him. There's a pretty large amount of people hanging around with their friends and I can't help but hope that none of them recognize me. I don't want any of my viewers to see my like this.

Thank god, none of them do. There’s a little clock on a post that tells me it's about two thirty, meaning I’m just on time. I shove my hands into my jean pockets and lean against the pole. I’ll give him ten minutes to find me here then I’ll just head off if he doesn't come. Five slow minutes go by and I begin to doubt his arrival. _Maybe this was just a joke. He's probably just pretending to be friends with me_.

I double check the street sign, though it tells me exactly what I told El. _Maybe I’m just not good enough for friends_. Traitorous tears brim my eyes for no good reason and I push myself from the post. I have never been one to be able to keep friends. Most get tired of me or annoyed by my constant mental problems. I don't blame them, it's not easy to watch someone break down into fits of not being able to breath and panicking for no good reason almost every single day. After I while I just gave up. Now I remember why. I start my walk to the store down the street, kicking at the loose rocks. I feel numb again; numb and empty.

“Days, wait up!” I jump at a familiar voice behind me and wait for him to catch up. I can't help the sigh of relief that leaves my lips. The black haired boy runs up beside me, panting as he stops. He leans down, placing his hands on his knees. Obviously he isn't in the most amazing physical shape, though neither am I. I’m just glad to see that he didn't ditch me. _I shouldn't get my hopes up too much._

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. There was a problem with the coffee machine. It's all fixed up now.” He explains and I nod, giving him a half smile.

“That's fine, just tell me when you're ready to head out.” While I don't stutter, I cringe at the sound of my voice. The tone seems so devoid of life and simply empty. I don't like it, though I can't bring myself to fix it. I’ll just hope that Elliot doesn't notice. _Even if he does, I’m sure he won't care_.

“Yeah, I’m good. We can go.” He huffs and stands up straight once more. He sounds a lot better after only those few seconds of rest. Maybe he is in better shape than me. I shrug and begin to walk again, staring at the cement in front of me. Anything to keep him from seeing my expressions. I’d like to avoid as many questions about how I’m feeling as possible.

“I have to say, your stream last night was pretty good. While I do love your horror let's plays, I prefer them when it's bright outside. Also, you don't jump as much as most people do. It's kind of off putting.” We shift over a bit on the sidewalk as a young woman passes by, looking at my face as if she recognizes me. She keeps walking, deciding that it's better not to even ask. Sometimes it's hard for people to recognize me, which is nice a lot of the time. It's the best when I’m having a bad day. _Just like today._

“I watched many horror shows and movies as a kid. Those kind of things don't phase me that badly.” I half-heartedly answer him, kicking at a rock on the street. It's so bright outside despite how dark and gloomy I feel. It feels like it'd be a rainy, or at least cloudy, day. The rain always makes me feel better, which is why I enjoyed England so much. Even so, the world goes on with or without me. No matter how awful I feel, people will still be happy and go about their normal lives because my problems don't affect them. It's sad but true.

“So, what exactly do you need at the store?” I can tell that he wants to ask about Mark but is holding off. _The less I need to talk about that embarrassment, the better._

“Bagels, laundry stuff, margarine, milk, apples, and some quick stuff I can pre-make for supper in the next few days for Vidcon.” Cringing at the thought, I kick once more at another rock. It's keeping me busy for the time being. I still haven't fully memorized my set list but I have so much I need to get done today that it's going to have to wait until tomorrow. _I’ll screw up no matter how much I try anyways._ I’m sure I can get it memorized by the end of the day tomorrow. Even if I don't, I have a whole other day after that for preparation. Though, I’d much prefer using that day to relax and mentally prepare myself for four days of socializing and constant anxiety.

“You sure you don't need any condoms?” At Elliot’s words, I stop dead in my tracks. He did not just suggest something like that. My relationships are my private business, he has no right making such accusations. _No one would get that close to me anyways._ I get that he's trying to make a joke but I'm really just not in the mood today.

“Elliot, if we're going to be friends, there is one thing you have to know about me. I don't do relationships. I have never been good at romance or even getting close to someone like that. If Mark and I end up being friends, that's fine. I just want to be clear that we will never be close in that way.” I explain in a strict tone and keep on my way. Elliot stumbles to catch up, though he stays silent, probably trying to find a response. In my time of being alive, I’ve only ever had one boyfriend and that wasn't even a proper relationship. We didn't kiss, we barely even got close enough to hold hands, and it ended without any sort of feeling.

I gave up on finding love a long time ago and that won't change. While that doesn't mean I’m not attracted to people, I know I’ll never get close to anyone to fall in love. It's like my thing. I drive people away with my stupid, irrational anxiety and my lack of self-confidence. People think that they can jump into my life and fix me within a week then they get frustrated when they don't. Even if that's not it, everyone always finds some reason to leave. If, by some miracle, I had a crush on somebody, it'd just lead to heartbreak. _They all leave me in the end anyways._

“Okay, I won't make anymore jokes about it. I do want to know what happened yesterday. If you want to talk about it, that is.” My comments seem to have made Elliot snap out of hyper-active mode. Or maybe he just realized I’m closed off. I take in a deep breath. I might as well talk to him about it. I don't really have anyone else to tell this to since I’m not telling my viewers about actually meeting Mark. We finally make it to the parking lot and head for the entrance of the grocery store.

“I broke my chair. The back gave away and I fell and scratched my arm open on a screw that was poking out.” I point at the patch on my arm, peaking out from under my baggy t-shirt. I’m sure he heard about it from the stream last night but I figure that's the best place to start the little recap. The sliding doors open and we walk into the slightly crowded store. It smells fresh with the vegetable aisle right in the front. It's also a lot cooler in here than the 25°C weather outside. Elliot stays quiet while I pick up a small basket to carry around.

“It was bleeding pretty badly and I didn't have band aids because I’m stupid. I ran out of my apartment to head here to buy some and I tripped down the stairs. Turns out I fell into Mark and he caught me.” It feels boring to go through what happened just over a day ago like this but I continue on anyways. I know that El would just go crazy if he didn't hear about it. I walk up to a selection of vegetables and start picking up stuff for a simple salad. My plan is to make a salad and bring it with me for a lunch at at least one of the days. _I’m hoping it'll keep me in fair shape instead of eating vender food each day_.

“I, uh, I ran away but he caught me before I got into my apartment. He basically forced me to let him help me and we went to his place. When I was all fixed up he offered to hang out for a while before he had to record. Then everything happened with you.” I skip past the offer to show me around LA, not wanting Elliot to start screaming in the store. _The less attention, the better_. I pick out a few apples, knowing that I’ll need a few quick breakfasts and snacks. Something tells me that I’m going to be rushing in the mornings.

“We walked back to the building just chatting. Then we made a deal about his recording and my streaming for last night. That was it. Nothing exciting.” We continue through the store, making the next stop to the bread section. Good, bagels. My basket is getting to be a fair weight. I made a deal with myself quite a while ago that I go to the store once a week and only buy as much as I can carry in one basket. The exception is when I move apartments. It's good for limiting my spending.

“What did ya talk about?” Elliot’s pep seems to be back in his step, which is good. I didn't mean to make him upset. Milk is next on the list.

“Mostly how long it took us to find out we’re neighbours. A little bit about LA. Nothing very exciting.” That's a pretty good summary. I check the milk to find the one with the latest best by date and grab a small one. I only use it for cereal, really, there's no point getting a 2L. _This is so boring. I hate shopping. I hate being in public._

“I talked to Mark this morning.” He continues following me like puppy towards the frozen food section. I think I’m going in college kid mode and grabbing a few pizza pops along with some steamers. They aren't my first choice of food, though they're quick and easy to make. Okay, that has me set for the next few days, I just need laundry detergent. Remembering that El just made a statement, I hum in response. To be honest, I’m not too interested in hearing about Mark. _I’m sure he just told Elliot how terrible yesterday was for him._

“Yeah, he was picking up some coffee before he had to pick up Wade and Jack from the airport. They both got in this morning. He said that they're hanging out around the city today and tomorrow before Vidcon starts.” He seems really excited about them being in the city. Or maybe it's that he enjoys Mark talking to him about this. I let out a half-hearted response. _There are too many people here. I want to get home._ I look at the shelf of different detergents, trying to decide which one I actually want. _I’m such an idiot. How do I not know which detergent I use?_ I’ve been using the same one for years.

“He talked about you.” My hand stops before reaching the container I was going to grab. This shouldn't phase me. Elliot probably asked him about me. I shake my head slightly and continue with what I was doing. Of course this bothers me. Everything bothers me.

“Oh, cool.” I brush the comment off, hoping that he won't explain himself. No part of me actually wants to know this weird gossip between the barista and the YouTuber. Elliot doesn't take my mental plea into account as he continues talking.

“He said that it was nice to hang out with you yesterday and that he's probably going to ask you if you want to go to supper with him and the guys.” I can tell that Elliot’s biting his tongue to stop himself from talking more about the subject and I’m kind of glad he is. Whatever he's holding back, I don't want to know. It can't be good anyways. Still, it surprises me that Mark’s planning on getting me to join the guys for dinner. I mean, it's not going to happen, but it's still surprising. With the day I’m having already, there's no way I’m going to go out tonight. Even if it was any other day, it’d just be really awkward. Mark, Jack, and Wade are all pretty good friends, meaning I’d be the odd one out. The last thing I want is to be the third, er, fourth, wheel.

“I’m sure he’ll message me about it later. Thanks for the heads up.” It is kind of nice to know ahead of time so I can make up some sort of excuse before he asks. We head towards the checkout counter and I empty my basket onto the belt. The only thing that wouldn’t fit into the container was the laundry detergent but I expected that. It takes up half the basket on its own. The guy behind the register looks at me and squints his eyes as he rings through some of my groceries, bagging them as he does. Last time I was here, I bagged my own so I’m wondering if the blonde haired boy is just different or that he’s too distracted to remember. His teeth play with his black lip ring as he watches me walk towards the debit machine. I take my bag off my back and pull out my little wallet.

“Did you find everything you were looking for today?” I check his silver name tag and find out his name is Remy. He looks into my eyes before immediately looking away. I push up my glasses at the tense feeling I have.

“Uh, yeah, I-I think so.” I respond, taking out my debit card from the little pocket, cringing at the sight of my drivers licence. I haven’t actually drove a car since I left my little town to go to London. I never felt it necessary to get a car or rent one. Wait, I did drive last time I visited down home, which was about four years ago. Anyways, the picture is still terrible. Quickly, I snap myself out of my thoughts to pay attention to Remy again. He rings through the last of my items.

“Would you like the detergent in a bag?” He asks, finally realizing that he’s packing it for me. I give a quick shake to my head as he puts the other two plastic bags onto the counter next to him.

“Your total is $48.25 today. Will that be cash or debit?” I watch him flip him piercing from side to side, probably as some sort of nervous tick. After have so many little fidgets I do when I’m anxious, I can tell when someone’s doing the same. There’s this slight feeling that he recognizes me, though I push it off. If he asks about it, I’ll talk but other than that, I’m just going to let it slide. I don’t feel like I want to really talk right now anyways.

“Debit, please.” I answer him, holding my card up slightly on instinct. I usually do it in case they didn’t hear what I said since I talk rather quietly. It’s not unusual for people to ask me to repeat myself. He taps something on the screen and waves for me to proceed. I bite at the inside of my cheek as I tap the machine with my card. To my relief, it beeps to tell me that the transaction went through. As the receipt prints out, Remy peaks down the register to check who’s next in line, though there’s no one there.

“Hey, do you mind if I get a picture? If not, that’s totally cool but I’d really appreciate it.” He takes out the phone from his pocket and shows it to me as if to say it will only take a second. I take the moment to slip my wallet back into my bag so that it’s out of the way. I give him the best smile I can manage and nod once more.

“Sure,” A photo shouldn’t be too difficult and I’d feel bad if I said no. These are the people who have helped me be where I am today, this is the least I can do. When I hear about people being rude to their fans, it really confuses me. What’s so difficult about taking a picture? Remy’s smile grows to show his teeth and he quickly puts the piece of paper into one of my bags. He walks around to where I’m standing and turns on his phone to camera mode. Elliot stands off to the side, being polite about the matter. No matter who I’m friends with, they have to realize this will happen every once in awhile. Not as much as if I was Jacksepticeye or Pewdiepie but still every so often. I put my elbow on his shoulder with a little bit of struggle and smile as he snaps a selfie. I hope it turned out well and not that I ruined it.

“Thank you so much, really, this is amazing. I’ve just recently started watching your channel but I really like your videos.” He compliments me and walks back to where he’s supposed to be. He’s just saying that to be nice. Once more, I give him a half smile while picking up the plastic bags and laundry soap.

“Thank you for joining the channel. I-It’s good to be able to create something that people enjoy. I-If you see me around again, don’t be scared to say hi. Have a good day.” I motion to Elliot with my head that I’m ready to go and he follows me towards the exit. My smile drops fairly quickly and I find myself looking at the floor once again. I find myself wanting to get home more so than I did before. Today just feels bland. It feels dark despite it being sunny. It feels numb and empty.

“That was nice of you,” Elliot comments but I instantly correct him.

“It’s nice of you guys for supporting me the way you do. I should be thanking you over you guys thanking me. It’s the least I can do.” I shift the bags in my hand, feeling the weight a little too harshly. The bags themselves aren’t that heavy, though today I feel rather weak. I try to tell myself that it’s all going to be okay but I know that I only have so much time before I spend three and a half days waking up at seven in the morning to be at the place by nine, and only get out of there by ten at night. Each day is just going to be a huge conversation and I’m worried I won’t really be able to handle it.

“Hey. are you okay? You seem a bit off today.” El asks the question I’ve been hoping he wouldn’t. I keep my eyes on the cement and dig my fingernails into my hand momentarily. It’s pretty hard for me to lie despite me doing it regularly.

“I’m fine. I have a lot on my mind.” I keep my response as simple and clear as possible so he can’t read into it. To be fair, it’s pretty much my default response. A piece of hair falls in front of my face and I leave it, not feeling motivated enough to fix it while my hands are full. It’s not really obstructing my vision anyways. Elliot hums in response, probably not believing me. Whether he believes me or not doesn’t matter, it’s whether he pushes on it or not. Luckily he doesn’t comment on it and just lets the topic drop.

“So, I’m thinking about adding a new white hot chocolate to the menu. Next time you stop by, do you want to try it out?” I let out a sigh that he changes the subject and actually find myself interested. That’s always been my favourite kind of hot chocolate but I’m pretty picky on which ones I like. Many that I’ve tried have left me disappointed. Then again, if this one turns out to be good then I can get it whenever I go down that way. That would be nice.

“Sure,” It doesn’t take us too long to make it back to the pack that I was waiting at earlier. It’s a short trip, which I’m thankful for. I’d rather not walk very long with my hands full of groceries.

“I, uh, I have to head across the park to talk to someone that lives over there. Thanks for joining me.” While Elliot seems like a nice guy, I’d rather not have him know exactly where I live. If it turns out that my instincts are wrong and he lets out my address, then I’m responsible for myself and Mark being in danger of being stalked. It’s going to take a while for me to trust him fully. If he doesn’t ditch me by then.

“Alright, I have to head back to the café anyways. By now they’re probably out of cups or something and looking for me. I’ll see you later.” He waves at me and starts jogging down the road towards his shop. I’m glad he doesn’t have any hard feelings about me telling him to leave like that. I blank out on the walk back to the apartment and by the time I realize where I am, I’m already back in my kitchen, aimlessly putting away my purchases. I check the time on my stove to see four o’clock in yellow letters. Thank god the day is almost done. I finish what I’m doing and head to my recording room. I was going to get some laundry done or something but I feel like that’s not going to happen now. I turn on my computer, planning to find _something_ that will occupy my time before I need to sleep. I mean, I could sleep now, though I’d feel terrible in the morning for it.

As soon as everything is loaded up onto my screen, I open up YouTube, just like I do when I usually feel this way. It helps me get my mind off of stuff I don’t want to think about and even makes me smile. I open my subscription box and turn on the first video I see. It’s a Seananners Prop Hunt video. Man, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen one of these from him. He’s been doing streams rather than videos lately and I’m too busy doing other stuff to watch them. I shake my head as he gives his little laugh while slipping under a stove in the map as a hula girl. What a cheater. ChilledChaos and Mini Ladd try shooting at him but miss every time because of the angle he’s at. If I ever played with these guys, I wouldn’t want to be against Adam.

I continue watching video after video but as I change the video to Chilled playing Mini Golf, there’s a knock on my front door. I freeze and click to pause. It goes silent for a second before another knock sounds. I check my phone out of instinct but there are no notifications showing. _Who in the world is that_? I get up and quietly walk into my living room, careful not to trip. The last thing I need is this person to hear me. I lean on my door and stand on my tiptoes to look through the peephole. Just as my eyes adjust, the only thing that I can see is a deep blue iris on the other side. I let out a squeak in surprise and step backwards, tripping over the imaginary item on my floor. Why does this seem familiar?

“Days, are you okay? Did you trip again?” I push myself to my feet, surprised by the sound of Mark’s voice. What is he doing here? Wait, Mark’s eyes aren’t blue. I pause again, remembering that Elliot told me Mark was going to ask me to hang out with him and the other two. Oh god, that was probably Jack. Why did I have to trip? I could have just pretended like I’m not home! Okay, quickly, I have to come up with an excuse. I’m sick. No, it’s pretty obvious that I’m fine. It’s my time of the month. Woah, way too much information and it wouldn’t even be a proper excuse not to go out to dinner. Also I couldn’t pull off that lie.

“Days?” I take a deep breath and open the door, revealing the three guys. All of them are dressed in casual wear; t-shirt and jeans. Jack and Wade both look pretty worn out, probably because of the flight, though Jack still looks pretty hyper. I suddenly realize that I’m dressed in my laziest clothing that isn’t pajamas and begin to feel uncomfortable.

“Hey, uh, I’m good.” I manage to get out, feeling my breath repeatedly hitch in my throat. This is awkward and just straight up feels wrong. I’m not use to seeing Mark in person, let alone two other YouTubers. This can’t go well. Not with the way I’ve been feeling the whole day. I try to avoid looking on the other two and keep my gaze centered at Mark. He’s wearing his contacts today, which is not very surprising. I don’t know why it’s not surprising, it just kind of isn’t. His hair is rather neatly done, unlike how it looked right after he got back from the gym. Even so, he’s looking at me rather concerned, which is really off putting. _If he could not, that would be great._

“Elliot messaged me saying that you were off when he saw you early.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his statement. That I’m also not surprised about. I get the El was concerned for me but there was no reason to drag Mark into it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jack hop on the balls of his feet a little. The movement simply catches my attention.

“I’m good. I-I’m fine. I’m just busy with preparing for Vidcon.” I quickly correct myself, realizing that I repeated what I said before. I also finally decide on what lie to tell them. It seems believable enough. Even so, my stomach flutters with the possibility of him calling me out on it. _I really don’t want to deal with this today._

“Okay. Well, this is Jack and Wade, they’re down a bit early for Vidcon. Guys, this is Days.” Mark drops the talk about my emotions and introduces everyone. I mean, I know who they are but there’s a possibility they don’t know me. We all greet each other, Jack almost shouting at me. I really hope that we don’t get a noise complaint from him.

“We were wondering if you wanted to go out for supper. We’re going to that Chinese food place down the street, if you know that one.” He corrects himself during the last little bit, remembering that I don’t really know much about the area. That reminds me that I haven’t really had much to eat today. I give him the same half smile that I gave Remy before I left the store. It seems to be all I can manage to show for emotions today.

“As amazing as Chinese food sounds, I-I really can’t tonight. There’s so much that I-I need to get done. Sorry.” I apologize in the nicest way possible. Honestly, any kind of food sounds amazing now that I’ve been reminded of its existence. Mark’s smile twitches for only a moment and it gets me wondering if he’s disappointed about it. _He can’t be. He’s probably relieved_. I’m sure he only asked me so that I get to know them before the panel.

“Okay, if you’re sure. Message me later if you want.” He suggests, fluffing his hair up a bit. Both of the other guys just stand there awkwardly, probably not caring all that much. I’m assuming that they just want food considering the time they must have gotten in at. They were probably up really early this morning.

“Alright. I-It was nice meeting you guys. I hope you have fun.” I give them a small wave and close my door, leaving me alone in my apartment once more. I lean against the wood and sigh, taking off my glasses. The world goes into a complete blur but I run a hand down my face. That went much better than I expected, to be honest. I can’t help thinking that if today was a different day, would I have accepted the offer? Probably not. Like I said, being a fourth wheel is just awkward. I put my glasses back on, blinking a few times as the world comes back into focus. Before I start watching videos again, I should make something to eat. Ugh, I’m so lazy. Heading to the kitchen, I pull a pot out of the cupboard and fill it with water to boil. Kraft Dinner seems like the more appealing option right now. It’s decent in taste and is easy to make.

As that cooks, I think. I think about Mark. I think about Vidcon. I think about just life in general. My life is so different than I expected it to be. I thought I’d be doing special effects makeup for movies and tv shows. Before that, I thought I’d be behind the scenes of making video games for others to enjoy. Before that, I don’t even remember. I guess my goal was to just get out of the small town I lived in and do _something_ ; anything, really. I mean, I guess I completed that goal and I am creating something for people to enjoy. It’s just not what I thought I was going to be making. I wish I was just more put together than I am right now. Maybe then things would be different. Maybe if I wasn’t so anxious and awkward, I would be out, eating Chinese food with other YouTubers and having a good time.

I shake my head at my ridiculous thoughts. ‘What ifs’ and ‘maybes’ are not going to change anything in my life. I just have to suck it up and play with the cards I was dealt. So I’m not very social; whatever. I can enjoy the time by myself just as much as I could hanging out with everyone. I have my Kraft Dinner and YouTube videos. That’s all I really need right now. Besides, I’ll be hanging out with other YouTubers enough in a few days that I won’t even want to converse with Mark in the hallways because I’d just want to be alone. Yeah, everything will be just fine.

The next few hours are spent eating my bowl of food and indulging in videos. After I ran out of the videos on YouTube that I wanted to watch, I moved on to binge watching a series on Netflix. Lie To Me came up on my recommended list and I figured that it seemed interesting enough. I’m enjoying it quite a bit. The sound of the show is interrupted by another knock on my front door. I pause my video again and check the time on my phone since it’s almost pitch black in the room. It’s about 10:30. I groan and get up from my chair. This time I don’t bother checking the peephole but straight up open the door. I open my mouth to ask what whoever it is wants but find only an empty hallway. A shiver goes down my spine in nervousness.

I look up and down the hall but there’s no one outside. I shake my head and look at the carpeted floor, only to find a medium sized white box with red print on it. I raise an eyebrow but pick it up anyways. Written in red letters on the side is ‘Chilling Chinese’. I step back inside and lock the door behind me, realizing that there’s a note on the side of it. I head to the kitchen and turn on the small light above the stove. It doesn’t illuminate much of the room but the orange-tinted light gives me enough to read the writing on the small piece of paper.

‘ _Sorry you couldn’t join us but I figured I’d get you a bit. Hope you ‘get the stuff’ done soon :) -Mark_ ’ I shake my head at the note but find myself genuinely smiling for the first time all day. He is a really strange man. I grab a fork from the drawer and head back to my recording room with the container of fried rice. Before starting up the show again, I text Mark for the first time with his number, thanking him. It’s strange but there’s a little flutter in my heart where there was ematinees all day. I like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know I haven't been posting lately, though that's pretty normal for me. I hope you enjoyed a more laid back chapter with the introduction to Jack and Wade. 
> 
> I was planning on skipping ahead to Sunday but I felt like having something between what was written and what I had planned is necessary for this style of book. Anyways, I've already started writing out the next chapter so it should be up fairly soon. 
> 
> I hope you all have a good time until then!


	10. Chapter Ten ~ Anxiety Sucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Anxiety trigger warning. The start of the chapter until a while in is a rather descriptive account of a pretty major anxiety attack*
> 
> With Vidcon in only two days time, Days is starting to stress over her choice in set list.

With my anxiety, I can sometimes go into these sort of ‘states’. Many of which are normal for me but there’s this _one_ state. Whether it's actually brought on by my anxiety, just me being nervous, or both, I have no clue. It always happens right before something big is happening that I know I should be more prepared for. Like right now. Without even doing anything extreme, there's this weight on my chest that just refuses to leave. It makes me feel sick.

“Goddamnit!” I huff, stopping my song half way through. I have today and Monday to get all seven songs memorized and prepared to be performed. Two days and I just can't get it right. The key, the notes, the chords, nothing’s sticking! I feel like throwing up. The panic is so high in my throat and I just can't seem to regulate my breathing. I take my guitar off my my lap and put it onto the stand that I moved to be beside my desk for now. I know one of the reasons I can't sing properly is because of my rough breathing but that doesn't excuse my lack of chord memorization!

“I-I can't do it! _Fuck!”_ I stand up and begin to pace as the invisible pressure on my chest worsens. Every terrible possibility is running through my mind right now. I’m going to have a panic attack on stage. I’m going to forget all the chords and all the lyrics. I’m going to be off key. I’m going to be pitchy on every single high note. I know that Something’s Gotta Give doesn't match my voice that well but I don't have the time to switch it out for another song. Why did I agree to do this? The world tilts and I fall to my knees, losing any sort of balance I had. I curl myself into a little ball, hyperventilating. Even though I know what's happening, I can't find the strength to stop it.

“Days?” My head shoots up at the sudden voice from the other side of the wall. It doesn't snap me out of my anxiety attack in any way but it makes me realize that I’m probably ruining Mark’s recording. That only makes me panic more. As if I could screw up anything more than I’m going to already. I’m a terrible, terrible person.

“I-I’m so sorry! I-I’ll go to the living room.” I unwrap my arms from around my legs and attempt to stand up. The problem is that my whole body is shaking, which is making this whole process a whole lot harder. My throat burns, taking a huge beating from my over breathing. It's beginning to feel like I’m drowning. As if water is encasing my lungs and filling them with no remorse. It's causing me to breathe heavier in attempt to actually feel like air is reaching my chest. Of course, it's not working and instead only makes me panic more.

“No, it's okay! You're not disturbing me. What's wrong? Are you okay?” The worry in his voice distracts me for a second, though that's enough for my arms to give out on me and send my to the floor once more. It's starting to feel like I’m not home in my body anymore; as if real life isn't true and I’m just in the backseat.

“Yeah. Just a-anxiety. I-It's fine, I-I’m fine.” Despite my reassuring words, I put my forehead to the carpet and struggle to find the breath to even speak. At this point, there’s nothing I can do to stop this panic. I just have to ride it out and hope that it doesn't last for over an hour, which is a possibility. These can last anywhere from five minutes to an hour and a half. One time this happened I was in a car coming back from a high school trip. My friend was trying to get my attention while I was just sitting there, hyperventilating and crying. He had to physically grab me to even get me to acknowledge his existence.

“Days, I can tell you're not fine. I’m going to come over. Is your door unlocked?” I want to decline his offer. I don't want anyone to see me in this state. I don't like people seeing me so weak. The problem is, I can't find it in me to say no. If there's any chance of him helping me, I should take it. Otherwise, it might just get worse from here.

“No,” I reply and gasp as I feel my body go cold. It's not unusual for that to happen but it's still highly unpleasant. It feels like my blood circulation is stopping and sending my body into a frozen, lifeless state.

“Do you have a spare key anywhere?”

“A-Above the door frame.” With that, it goes silent. The only sound I can hear is my own, uneven breath. I turn myself onto my back and slide my way to the wall behind me. My hair, that I haven't bothered to brush today, falls in front of my face. A few strands stick to my forehead. While I feel cold, my body is actually burning from overworking itself. I begin digging my short nails into my left arm, just under the bandage on my wound. I need to snap myself out of this.

My back slips down the wall slightly and my pajama tank top moves upwards just a bit. I’m not the most presentable today with my pajama shirt and pajama shorts but I didn't expect to see any other human being. I hear the front door click open and I dig my nails further into my skin. I hear nothing for a moment, though footsteps coming down the hall follow quickly after. A figure appears in the doorway of my recording room, though it's slightly blurred for some reason. Without a word, he walks up to me and sits down to my left.

“Days,” Mark begins but pauses, looking at my shaking body up and down. Since I’ve been so busy getting ready for the convention, I haven't even bothered to check if he messaged me back last night after I thanked him. I did wake up this morning to find an email back from the Vidcon staff to find out that Elliot was right, I do have an interview and that I need to get my badge from them before I perform on Tuesday. That's about all the contact I’ve had with social media since last night. I’ve been working on my music almost since the moment I woke up.

“Days, your arm.” Mark grabs my right hand, taking my nails away from my skin. Even with their short length, they leave five crescent shaped marks in my skin. They didn't quite break it open but it's deep enough to look dented and aggravated. I look away from it, ashamed at the sight. On some sort of instinct, I attempt to take my hand from his.

“Hey, it's okay. Look at me.” Mark doesn't let my arm go but makes sure I don't hurt myself trying to get it back. I can tell he wants to help. I’m just not use to allowing people to help me. Taking a few extra empty breaths, I look up into his brown eyes. Using my free hand, I brush my blonde hair from my face and take in the man in front of me. He has his dark framed glasses on and seems to be wearing pajamas also. I guess we both weren't expecting to go out.

Even his hair is pretty well a mess; the red and brown mixing together more than normal. Though he doesn't look socially presentable, he still looks better than I do. The most noticeable thing about him is the concern and confusion in his eyes. I don't blame him. Even when we first met I wasn't in this poor of a state. My hands are probably freezing bold right now with my blood rushing to whatever part of my body it's decided needs it more. I can't feel his touch very much. It's more of a numb feeling.

“You have to talk to me. What's setting this off?” He seems so calm and collect despite seeing a girl he barely knows completely break down in front of him. After a failed attempt at collecting myself, I stutter out the best response I can.

“I-I have a performance i-in two days a-and I-I’m not prepared. I-I can't memorize anything. I-I can't hit the notes right. I-It's all going s-so wrong a-and I can't fix it. I-I can't do it, Mark. I-I’m going to fuck it up. I-I can't-” I cut myself off as where my breath begins and ends mixes together. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. I hate that I’m like this. Looking back up at Mark, I see his lips turn into a half smile.

“Come here,” Without giving me a moment to think about it, Mark lifts me up and places me down in his lap. With my anxiety, I can't even find it in me to be awkward about it. He puts an arm around my waist, where my top isn't quite touching my pajama bottoms, and the other on top of my knees as he pulls me into his chest. I can't stop myself from leaning my head onto his shoulder. I’ve never had anyone here to comfort me like this while I’m in this state before. Most see me like this and leave immediately.

“It's fine to be scared. Everyone gets nervous before this kind of thing. Well, some don't but they're crazy. You're going to do amazing, just like you do when you play at the café. It may be a bigger crowd but they're going to love you just the same. Your music is incredible and you should never doubt that. You just need to put a little more time into memorization. It's all going to be okay, Days, I know it will be.” Mark puts his chin on the top of my head and I listen to his heartbeat. Every part of my body intensifies his touch as I’m more aware of any sort of sensation. He holds me not too tight but not too loose. It’s as if he’s making sure I don’t feel like I’m being held hostage in his arms, though he cares about me being safe. His hand rests on my stomach while my heartbeat tries to match his. His other hand rubs up and down my exposed leg, the skin tingling as he does

Slowly but surely, the combination of his words and being so close to him, calms me down. We sit there for about five minutes in silence while my breathing begins to slow down and my heartbeat begins to match his fully. He keeps whispering reassuring words to me, making sure I know that he’s right there if I need to say anything else. I can feel by body cooling itself down and my vision finally returning to its normal state. I let out a sigh, realizing that everything’s back to normal. It lasted for less time than I anticipated.

“You good?” He asks as I move off his lap and sit on the floor in beside him. I nod my head, grabbing the elastic that I put on my wrist earlier in the day and tying my hair into a ponytail. It’s still damp from my increase in heat but that’s mostly at the roots. It shouldn’t take too long to dry. Sadly, my hands are still shaking slightly, which makes even holding the elastic in my fingertips rather challenging.

“Yeah, s-sorry.” I apologize, running a hand down my face out of exhaustion. It takes a lot out of me to be in that state for that amount of time. Even though I’m back to normal, my anxiety is still there, just at a lower capacity. It’s still causing me to stutter and feel fairly disgusting.

“There's no need to apologize. I’m glad you're feeling better.” Mark stands up from the floor and I follow his lead. My legs are much more stable now so I don't fall. My skin does still feel prickly from where Mark was. I try to ignore it and focus on making some sort of conversation.

“I-I am. I do feel bad that you had to come over here.” I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my face heat slightly. The embarrassment is finally kicking in while my brain processes what happened. I feel like I should probably block this out of my mind and never _ever_ bring this up to Elliot.

“Don't. I’m here if you need me. When I said just shout if you need help, that wasn't just limited to if you trip and fall.” There’s a moment of pause since I can’t really come up with a response. Then again, there’s a look on Mark’s face that tells me he has a question that he’s debating whether or not to ask. I leave it silent, letting him decide if he wants to bring it up or not. Sure enough, He speaks a few seconds later.

“Are all your anxiety attacks like that?” He asks and I give a small shrug. He seems really reluctant about asking, as if I was going to be sent into another attack. Of course, that’s not how my anxiety works, though he doesn’t really know that. I’ve made one video about it on my channel and mentioned it a few times here and there but I don’t like to draw attention to it. I’d rather not have people feeling sympathy towards me or treating me different because of it. It’s really not that bit of a deal. I’ve been dealing with this since I was six, today made it no different.

“Uh, n-no. Most are a lot...less. T-That was a large one. I-It usually doesn't get to...that. I-I can usually still function when h-having one” I rub the part of my arm that is still attempting to recover from the nail marks. It doesn’t really hurt, though it burns just a bit. These kinds of anxiety attacks only happen when a performance is coming up, luckily. If that was my normal anxiety attack I’d probably die. I’d be constantly exhausted.

“That's good. So...would you like help with your set list? I _am_ here, after all.” Mark offers and I pause. That's not what I was expecting. I mean, I don’t know _what_ I was expecting but that’s not it.

“I-I mean, you must have something better t-to do.” I can't help but feel bad. I’ve already wasted ten minutes of his day with my stupid anxiety, there’s no need to waste any more.

“I’m waiting for three videos to pre-upload and I’m done everything I need to in preparation for Vidcon. I’d love to do something productive!” Mark takes a step towards me and tilts his head. In response, I take a step back and play with the ends of my hair. This is the Friday thing all over again.

“W-What about Jack a-and Wade?” I ask, coming up to my last resort. I don't want to be rude but I don't want him to see me as frustrated as I’ve been. It's not something I never planned anyone else to see. I’m not very good at getting mad so there’s a lot of angry laughing and random frustrated strumming. Mark rolls his eyes at my question.

“Both of them have decided to spend today resting from their flights. We're hanging out more tomorrow.” He explains, watching my movements carefully. He's probably making sure that I’m not going to overreact to anything he says. That's why I don't like people seeing me when my anxiety is out of control. They treat me like I’m this helpless child but that's not what I am. Like I said, I’ve been dealing with this for _years_.

“Mark, I-I’ve been messing up everything all morning.” I say, truthfully. The last thing I want to do is torture him with my off key, pitchy notes. Even so, he continues to smile at me without any sort of hesitation.

“I’ve been hearing you through the wall _all morning_. Trust me, it doesn’t matter. I promise I’ll give you honest opinions and be helpful and all that.” He plops himself down on my computer chair and leans back into it, making himself comfortable. I’m assuming that he’s not going to leave now. I let out a breath through my nose and nod my head. I did end up putting some liquid latex and cotton over the screw that was sticking out, otherwise I’d be concerned for his safety. I walk over to the side of my desk and pick up my guitar, placing the strap over my neck. Pulling my hair out of the way, I replace the capo onto the fret I need it on to test out my first song.

“What’s your song list?” Mark asks and I simply point to the computer screen behind him. He spins in the chair to look at my monitor with a bunch of tabs open. There are six tabs open to Ultimate Guitar and one onto a Google Document that contains my personal song. He nods his head, switching from tab to tab in a rather quick motion. Even though his nodding seems confident enough, his eyebrows being pulled together says a completely different thing. I stifle a laugh.

“You don’t know a-any of these songs, do you?” I question, strumming some random chords as I wait. He turns back to me, still nodding his head.

“Absolutely none,” I shake my head, only managing a half smile at his joking ways. While I still don’t feel comfortable about this, it’s good to know that he doesn’t have any idea what any of the original songs sound like. It’s going to make it a lot less harsh when it comes to him criticizing them. Then again, most covers I do sound quite different from the original anyways.

“Okay, I-I’m going to start with Sick Of Losing Soulmates. I-I, uh, I do have this one memorized.” I half decided this song because I have it memorized, and half because it’s the closest to the normal songs that I sing, which is going to be easier on my voice. I put my capo onto the end of the neck so that it isn’t on any of the frets and hesitantly begin plucking away the tablature. It’s a fairly simple song, yet I can’t bring myself to look up at Mark during any of it even though when I’m on stage, I usually check for audience reactions. I do switch ‘fucked up’ to ‘screwed up’ during the chorus. I’ve never really felt comfortable swearing during songs and I’m sure Vidcon wouldn’t appreciate swearing on stage anyways. The song goes decent, despite my voice wavering with anxiety. I don’t really mess up any of the notes and my finger picking stays rather stable. I end the song and nervously peak up at Mark. His face is fairly blank; not in distaste, but with thought.

“That was good, really good, actually. The only thing I can really comment on here is that you need to relax. You’re very tense and nervous, even though it’s just the two of us. Part of what makes your videos so great is the emotion you put into it. Just focus on the lyrics and feeling rather than pleasing the people in front of you because you already are pleasing them.” His comments actually shock me. When he said he was going to help me, I didn’t expect him to give me real advice like that. I simply never took him for someone like this. Maybe that’s ignorance on my part.

“O-Okay, uh, let’s go with Dear Maria Count Me In.” This is a rather safe bet on my part because I’ve been playing this one for years. I’m pretty sure I played it the first time I got to perform with just my guitar and I. While it’s out of my comfort zone, I’ve gotten use to it. Putting the capo on the proper fret, I start it off. I make sure to focus on enjoying my music above all else. This song is rather humorous and I let myself feel that. I find myself smiling and adding a new twist onto the end of the last chorus. After the second verse, I actually forget that Mark is even there. I do mess up one of the chords, though it isn’t as noticeable as it could have been. It was nice to let my emotions rule rather than my stage fright. Looking up, I see the corner of Mark’s lip is pulled up, just slightly.

“There you go. That’s how it’s done.” My heart swells, hearing the truth in his voice. For the first time in a long time, I actually believe his compliment. It’s a nice change. I can feel myself coming out of my shell with him and that kind of scares me. I don’t let people get too close because things always go wrong. I push the thought aside, saving it for a time that he’s not right in front of me.

“A-Alright, let’s do Run.” While I don’t write a large amount of songs, this is my most upbeat one. The whole thing is about getting out of where I use to be and wanting that to change. It’s a song about me being confident enough to leave what I know behind and become who I want to be. I made it a long time ago and it’s still one of my favourites to play. It’s also one of my only songs that I have fully memorized. The others I always have to look back at. Mark gives me a thumbs up on that song and I move into Check Yes Juliet. These are the songs that I haven’t been dwelling on. Other than Sick Of Losing Soulmates, these are the ones that are normally on my set lists. It’s the last three that are really bothering me.

“That one’s good too. I’d go over it once or twice more, just to get more confident with the faster pace but it sounds fine to me.” What I really like about his feedback is that he isn’t over selling it. He’s not saying it’s ‘amazing’ or ‘incredible’, he’s telling me exactly how it is. Whenever someone tells me I’m something over the top, I can never believe them. I take a deep breath, knowing I have to move on to the ones that I’m not excited for.

“Next i-is-” I cut myself off, not knowing which one to actually do. They’re all just terrible.

“Can I pick?” Mark asks and I wave him to do so. It’s better than me having to pick one. He clicks through the three remaining, humming as he does. He even stops to read over some of the lyrics in one of them. I can tell what he’s thinking. Just by the lyrics, he can tell these are completely out of my style.

“Something’s Gotta Give?” I cringe at the name of the song. That’s the one that made me frustrated to begin with. It’s okay, if I have another mental breakdown, Mark’s here. Then again, I really don’t want to have another breakdown. One is enough, thank you very much. Nodding, I take a deep breath and prepare for the worst. And the worst is what I got. I can’t find the key, I’m screwing up the chords, and even the strumming pattern is just a mess. I stop myself before I can make it half way through the first chorus, feeling my anxiety rise heavily.

“I-I can’t. I-It’s just not going t-to happen.” I begin pacing, trying to calm myself down. If I can’t even get that much of this song good, there’s no way I’m going to have it performance ready in time. It’s screwed. I hear Mark stand up from the chair and walk over to me. He grabs me by the shoulders to get me to stop and look at him.

“That’s fine. It’s just one song, all the others turned out great.” He rubs my shoulders up and down, trying to reassure me. I can't help but shake my head. While most would think I’m overreacting, I have no choice in my fear. This is just what my anxiety does to me and I have no way to control it. Before I can argue with him, Mark continues talking.

“Don't give me that look. Days, you can do this. Just because it's one song doesn't mean that the whole set list is terrible. We only need to find something to replace this one. This can be fixed. We’ll find you a new piece once we go through the rest and if any of those need to be changed, we can handle that too.” Something about his tone makes me calm down, even in the slightest. It allows me to take control of my logic again. He's right, of course. It’s not like I even really have that one memorized. I can easily find a replacement.

“O-Okay, okay. Let's move on. We Don't Have To Dance.” Mark drops his hands, looking rather proud at my bounce back. That tingle in my chest is back again.

“I mean, I didn't think we were going to dance in the first place.” His joke only makes me roll my eyes. Actually, it eases me slightly, not that I would admit that to him. While he sits back down, I try the first verse out. I say ‘try’ because something's wrong about it. I stop and wrinkle my nose. It doesn't sound terrible like the last one did, it simply sounds off. I look up at Mark who seems to be having the same thought.

“Try stepping it up one, maybe.” His suggestion comes out more of a question but I move the capo up nonetheless. I attempt the song again, this time properly matching my voice to the key. I smile at Mark and nod my head in a non-verbal thank you. I’m surprised that I didn't think about that sooner. Actually, it's nice to have him here. Not only is he giving me good suggestions but it also is making me less frustrated with myself. Sure, I still got upset with the last song, but I didn't have a complete breakdown like I did when I was alone. I end the song with only a few small peaks at the chords on the screen and a couple of odd notes. I guess I have the excuse of it being my first time using this key.

“See, you got this. Only one more song. Bulletproof Love? What kind of music do you listen to?” I can tell that Mark’s question is a joke but I can't help giving a reply as I start the intro.

“Better music than you.” Sick burn. Even though I’m messing with him, I can hear my voice shake. I can't help but feel like something’s wrong with my chord pattern. I step to Mark’s left side, making sure not to hit my guitar off of the wall, and look at the open webpage. I bite my lip, changing almost the whole set to be correct. How could I have forgotten that many chords?

As I get the correct pattern, I also realize that the strumming pattern is almost as bad as the chords. Extending the intro, I try to figure out what's going wrong. It's not working no matter what I do. I put my palm flat against the strings, groaning in frustration. That's why I’ve been pushing this one off all day. I turn my back to the wall and lean against it, trying to decide what to do. This won't be ready. Not even close.

“What's wrong?” Of course, Mark doesn't know how bad it was because I didn't sing anything. To him, it was just an introduction to the song. To me, it was a nightmare.

“I-It was wrong. Extremely wrong. I-I haven't been able to get i-it all day.” I try to explain without too much detail. I know he plays at least a bit of guitar but I feel like if I try to go through it all, it will turn into a complete mess. Mark nods, pushing up his glasses which makes me copy on instinct.

“Alright, I’m sure we can find one to replace it. Was that the last one on the list?” I give him a quick nod, taking a few deep breaths to calm my heartbeat. Okay, I have most of the songs that I _can_ do memorized pretty well, now all I need to worry about is the replacement songs. Great, that’s do-able. _Please just kill me now_.

“Do you have any backup songs?” Mark gives a fair question and I give a slight groan. I should have put down a few backup songs while I was going through tabs but I didn’t think I would have needed them.

“No,” I reply, picking at some fuzz on my black bracelet. I’ll take anything that will keep me distracted. I feel like I’m on the verge of just leaving Mark in this room and going to take a nap. I feel exhausted and it’s not even that late in the day.

“This shouldn’t be too difficult to fix. What about the one you played at the café? You seemed like you had that one memorized pretty well.” I take a moment to think back and remember he’s talking about Walk On Water Or Drown by Mayday Parade. I played it for months during high school when I was obsessed with A Lesson In Romantics.

“Yeah, I-I guess. I’ll do that one.” I agree with him, making a mental note to myself that that’s the song I’m going with. I’ll probably write my set list on my arm, to be honest. That way I don’t get too nervous and forget what songs I’m supposed to be playing. Taking a moment, I try to figure out what my last song will me. All of them that I have memorized currently aren’t any I’d like to play for that large of an audience.

“Can I make a request?” I look at Mark like he’s crazy. I didn’t expect that. Then again, today is filled with unexpected things.

“Uh, sure.” I pull my ponytail a bit tighter, wondering what he has in mind. It has to be better than anything I’ll come up with. He scratches the back of his neck, smiling nonetheless.

“Do you know the song For The Nights I Can’t Remember?” He seems rather sheepish about his song choice and I can’t help but raise my eyebrows at him.

“Hedley?” I ask, making sure we’re talking about the same song. Mark nods his head, relieved that I do.

“Y-Yeah, we did it as a warm up song before one of t-the plays I-I did in high school. I-It was an expressive exercise. T-The assisting music teacher told us to think about someone we loved or were thankful to have in our lives while singing it. I chose…” I trail off, remembering  where that sentence was heading. My face heats and I clear my throat, pretending like that slip up never happened.

“You did acting in high school?” I don’t understand why Mark is so surprised right now. Slipping my guitar off of my shoulder, I walk to the other side of my desk to put it back on the stand. I know that the other two songs I can do, one I just haven’t played the one Mark chose in a while. He keeps his eyes on me the whole time and I can’t help but pull down the edge of my shirt to make sure that it’s completely covering my stomach. Not that it was really necessary because it covers down to my mid thigh with ease.

“I-I did acting every year. Four musicals. Three years of drama class.” I missed a year of drama class during my grade ten year because I had a bunch of classes I needed for video game design. Now I see that it was completely useless to do that. It’s fine, at least I have that information if it ever comes in handy.

“ _Really_?” I raise an eyebrow at Mark. He has this odd tone to his voice and a smirk that tells me he’s storing that information away for later. Whatever, that’s just what normal people do. I do have to admit, even though he’s in lazy clothes, he still looks really good. His t-shirt isn’t tight on him, though it’s not baggy like mine. It fits him comfortably and I like that. I’d prefer comfy, baggy sweaters over tight fitting clothing any day. His pajama pants are the ones that have his pixelated M with the mustache on them. His hair still isn’t fixed but, to be fair, my ponytail probably doesn’t even have all of my hair in it. Mark’s also wearing his glasses instead of his contacts. I don’t really blame him for that. I’ve only ever worn contacts for some of my FX videos and they get really uncomfortable pretty fast.  It’s good to know that neither of us really care about how we look right now.

“Uh, do you want a-anything to drink?” I ask, trying to be a good host. If there’s one thing that my mom has taught me, it’s to always offer drinks to guests. Also to horde plastic bags inside of other plastic bags. I’ve narrowed that habit down a lot since I moved out. Mark’s smirk doesn’t leave but it now reaches his eyes more, the corners of his eyes wrinkle slightly as a warm gesture. It’s cute. Way _too_ cute.

 

“Do you have any coffee?” _And it’s not cute anymore_. I roll my eyes, knowing he’s teasing me again. He begins laughing while I silently glare at him. Ignoring his joke, I turn and walk out of the room. The chair gives a small creak as he stands up and follows me, still amused by his own teasing. I walk to the kitchen and pull a Tassimo machine from one of the cupboards. His chuckling dies down when I pull out a bag of those little capsules for the machine. Holding it out to him, I smile. Jokes on him, I do have coffee.

“Take your pick,” He grabs the bag from me, staring at it in shock. The twenty-or-so tablets are all different flavours of coffee. While he looks through it, I put on the kettle to make myself some tea. It feels like a tea kind of day. Maybe I’ll have some Moroccan Mint.

“I thought you hate coffee.” His comment comes out more like a question and I turn around, hopping to sit on the counter. These ones are shorter than the ones in my apartment in London so it’s easier for a short person, such as myself, to sit on. Mark’s still holding the bag but at least now has, what I assume, is the coffee he wants made. I reach behind me and grab two mugs out of the cupboard. They’re both a simple black, just the same as my plates and bowls. They were on sale and the only set I could afford at the time after I accidentally broke all my plates except one. Don’t ask how because I really don’t know.

“Oh, I-I do. My sister got a Keurig a-and gave me what she had left of this one. Don’t worry, i-it’s not more than a year old.” I explain, taking notice that my stuttering is subsiding slightly. At least I’m getting more comfortable around him. Oh man, I actually haven’t talked to my sister in a while. I’ve been so busy with moving and my channel. She’s been busy programming for the company she’s working with. Both Tessa and I have very different schedules but we still play games together when we can.

“Then why did you keep these?” Mark puts the bag onto the counter next to the sink and I pray that it doesn’t tip over into the dishes. I haven’t taken a moment to wash them yet. I will before the convention starts. I take the disc from his hand and put it into the machine, making sure that the cup is directly underneath. Honestly, I don’t know why I kept them. Maybe I was hoping that one day I would magically start liking the stuff and make use of it. Not that I’m going to tell Mark that.

“Do you want c-coffee or not?” I ask, tapping the lever of my kettle up to stop the water from boiling. The water for the Tassimo starts heating up while I pour the hot water into my mug and add my tea bag; or, as I like to call it, my leaf pouch. It just sounds better that way. The coffee begins pouring into the mug with steam coming off of the hot liquid. I’m glad it still works. I haven’t tried it since I’ve moved.

“Of course I want the coffee.” Mark huffs, crossing his arms and pouting slightly. I check the time quickly. It’s already four thirty. I have about four minutes until my drink is ready. Coffee stops coming from the Tassimo and I hand him the mug.

“Do you take sugar o-or milk?” That’s a normal thing people put into their drinks, right? I don’t know. Some people in London would but those into their tea but I always found it to be disgusting that way. I’m good with leaving it straight. I watch Mark take a sip, the steam fogging up his glasses a bit. It seems to go away the second he lowers the mug. My heart skips a beat as he fully smiles at me. Nope, this is where that stops. I can’t be enjoying this _that_ much.

“This is fine, thanks.” I look away to check the time again, mostly as a way to stop looking at him. I still have a minute on my tea. I space out, watching the time on the stove slowly change. It’s been a long time since anyone or anything has made me feel this calm. He makes me want to tell him things I’ve locked away for a long time but I refuse to let that happen. We only met a few days ago, it doesn’t matter how long I’ve watched his videos for. I can’t trust him, not this fast.

“-don’t you agree?” I clip back into whatever Mark was talking about at the very end. I stare at him blankly, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. His expression is serious, which is worrying. Did I really not listen to some important question? I don’t want to admit that I wasn’t listening because that’s just rude. Okay, I have a fifty-fifty chance of getting the right answer. Usually when someone asks something with this amount of seriousness, they’re usually looking for someone to agree with them. I guess that’s what I’m going with.

“Uh, yeah.” I almost cringe at the uneasiness in my voice. I guess that could have sounded a lot more genuine. Mark grins and I sigh, glad that I picked the right choice. Most of the time I lose with those odds. Grabbing the string of my leaf pouch, I put it into an empty milk carton. It should be done steeping by now.

“I’m glad you also think that I’m the greatest, most sexy guy on the planet.” I’m glad I wasn’t holding anything because if I was, it would be on the ground. My eyes widen in shock and my gaze instantly snaps to him.

“What?” I almost shout in surprise, my heart jumping in my chest. He totally tricked me! Mark, of course, begins laughing once again while my face heats in embarrassment. It’s not that he isn’t a really handsome man because, well, he is. I would _never_ admit that to him though!

“I asked you an actual question and you didn’t answer. Hey, it’s your fault for not listening the first time.” He raises his hands in defense. I shake my head, knowing full well that he’s right. I just need to actually focus. I guess I’m tired. Now that I think about it, I really want to take a nap. I pick up the warm mug, letting the heat make me feel more alive than before. Taking a sip, I instantly notice that it’s still a bit too hot, though I like the alertness the flavour is bringing.

“What were you t-talking about before?” I ask, finally getting my head back into the right place. Maybe this time I’ll actually hear what he’s saying instead of making a fool of myself. What a nice change that would be. Too bad I know for a fact that’s never going to happen. It’s basically my job to make a fool of myself.

“I was wondering if I could get to know you a bit better. I don’t know all that much. Is that _okay_?” Mark stresses the last word, leaning his head towards me slightly just to exaggerate it even more. I feel like that’s pretty fair. I probably know ten times more about him than he knows about me. Something in me wants to say no and not let him get close to me at all. It’s one step closer to getting attached to him and, at least for right now, I don’t want to get attached. I’m on a good two year streak of not getting attached and it’s going fine. Then again, I probably shouldn’t spend the rest of my life alone, wasting away with my inevitable family of dogs. Actually, I really want to get a dog. Maybe a golden retriever. Anyways, that side of me ends up winning out.

“Sure,” I finally reply and Mark pulls up a stool from the other side of the little counter that’s between the living room and the kitchen. I take another sip of my tea, waiting for him to start questioning me. I mean, even though he’s getting to know me, that doesn’t mean I’ll get attached to him. I won’t let that happen.

“Okay, let’s start off easy then. What’s your favourite colour.” He grabs his coffee again, holding it with only one hand but keeping it steady on his lap. When I’m holding any of my cups, they look giant in my hands but when he does it, they look like they’re a normal size. Curse my small hands.

“Asking t-the hard hitting questions now. Turquoise.” I can’t help but sass him a little. He kind of deserves it after embarrassing me as much as he has. Mark fake scowls at me.

“Okay then, Miss Sass. What was your favourite thing to act?” The question actually makes me pause. After four years of improvisation (it’s weird calling it that instead of just improv), skits, and plays, it’s hard to pick a single one. I put the edge of my mug against my chin, thinking back to all of the scenes I’ve ever done. Oh wait, I know which one it is. I can’t help but give a genuine smile at the thought.

“I-I had a music teacher that helped out with the musicals I-I was in. He helped me a lot. One time there was a 24 hour t-thing to help raise money for something. During the night, we did improv based off of New York. I-I got to go up to act with some kid and he asked to switch out. Mr. Bram got on stage with me a-and we did a scene where he was a teenage girl and I was his parent. I-I was scolding him for what he was wearing and hold him that he can’t go out looking like that. T-The whole scene was him yelling about his outfit and me t-trying to get him to stay home. I-It was the greatest scene I’ve ever done.” I try to explain but not go too far into detail. Next time I go back home to visit, I hope that I get to see him again and thank him for everything. That man helped me become who I am today. Actually, both him and my old drama teacher. My eyes focus back in on Mark who’s sitting there, watching me reminisce about my high school days.

“If you could visit anywhere in the world, where would you go?” He asks after simply looking at me for a second. It’s not actually awkward anymore. It’s fairly light hearted, to be completely honest. I’ve never really thought of where I’d want to visit. I’ve always been a person that’s focused on my channel and my music above traveling. No, that’s a lie, I wanted to travel a lot but the motivation to do so is pretty far gone. Staying where I am seems fine. Still, there has to be some place that I would go.

“Northwestern Ontario with someone.” I finally decide, with my words staying fairly steady. Mark gives me a look.

“Isn’t that where you used to live?” I give him a nod, drinking my tea. It’s where I grew up. It’s also the same place I was hell bent on getting out of the second I turned eighteen.

“Why?” He asks, not in a crude way, just looking for a specific reason. Most of my fans know I hate the two small towns I grew up in. I’m not sure if Mark knows the same.

“While I-I don’t like the area as somewhere to live, trust me, I-I hate it, I have stories there. I-I’d want to take someone that I really like and show them everything about how I become who I am. I’d want to tell that person stories and show them all the amazing things I’ve found.” My tone gets more positive during the last sentence. I want to show someone special what I’ve been through that I can’t seem to put into words if I’m not looking at all the places they happened. Not all of them are good memories, some are the worst of my life so far. There’s something in Mark’s eyes that shows he understands.

“What’s your favourite video game?” He continues on, thankfully not dwelling on it. This one’s an easy question.

“Tales Of Symphonia.” I instantly respond without any sort of hesitation.

“I-It’s my childhood game.” I explain further, not wanting to leave it so blunt.

“What made it your favourite, other than the fact that you played it as a kid?” His follow up question still doesn’t even make me think.

“I-I never really cared about the plot when I was younger. I-It was the characters that always made me love it. Sheena had her cards, which I thought was the coolest weapon and she had her little pet Corrine. Collette with her clumsiness and her will to complete her prophecy. Lloyd being loyal to everyone and loving Collette even after all that happened. Genis and Raine’s relationship. There were more but those ones especially were always people I looked up to. I don’t know…” I trail off, feeling awkward that I just explained a lot. He probably hasn’t even heard of the game before and I went off, trying to say something that most likely doesn’t make any sense to him. I lift my cup again, trying to hide my reddening cheeks.

“I’ll have to check it out.” Mark’s pure reply shocks me but makes me feel good. He seems actually interested in looking into this game only because I told him I loved the characters. I’m sure he’s simply being nice.

“Okay, let’s do a little bit of a speed round. Cats or dogs?” My eyes widen as he picks up the pace of his talking. I’m usually good at thinking on my toes but this just seems odd to me.

“B-Both,” I’ve never really had one that I like more than the other and both seems to like me.

“Horror or romance?”

“Horror,” I could never really get into romance movies. They always just seem so fake and impossible. Horror at least gets my blood rushing.

“Sports or games?” I look at him like he’s crazy. What kind of question is that?

“Games, o-obviously.” Sports have never been something I could watch. I actually hate hockey, despite what most people in Canada say.

“Age?”

“Twenty,” Most of the time I can’t believe it’s only been two years since I’ve left home. It feels like so much longer.

“Birthday?” I groan instinctively. I hate when people fuss about my birthday so I just avoid telling anyone. Of course, now that the internet has come into my life, it’s impossible to keep it hidden.

“February e-eighth,” Even if I don’t tell him now, he’ll just look it up. Or bug me about it until I tell him. I’m saving both of us time.

“Any tattoos?”

“Yep,” Surprise crosses his features.

“Can I see them?”

“N-Nope,” I love my tattoo but I don’t like showing it to people and having to explain it. Mark pouts but continues on without any further complaints.

“Favourite ice cream?”

“Chocolate chip c-cookie dough.” I usually have a container of it in my freezer at all times.

“Snack food preference?”

“Gummy bears,” While people may argue with me, this is my stress food. If I’m completely freaking out about a deadline, gummy bears are my go-to. I ate _way_ too many while in the program. Late nights of designing and gummy bears were my thing.

“Worst fear?” My whole body tenses.

“Skip,” I decline to answer and chug down the rest of my minty tea. Luckily, he respects my privacy about it.

“Do you dance?” It’s fair to ask, considering how many art forms I do. Acting, drawing, music, special effects could be seen as art-like.

“Kind of,” By that, I mean that I know how to but I’m not the best at it.

“Back to longer questions. You like Zelda, right?” I almost slip up and tell him that I did a cosplay of Zelda a few years back. I do _not_ trust him enough to tell him about that. Nodding my head, I reach for his now empty cup and put it on the pile in the sink.

“Which game did you like the most from the series?” That’s a tough one. I really enjoyed both Ocarina Of Time and Twilight Princess.

“Twilight Princess. I liked the transformation aspect of it and I found the bosses better than in Ocarina Of Time. For me, Twilight Princess was much more laid back and less stressful. Oh, also the graphics. I-I loved the art style.” I conclude, remembering how many times I restarted the game after not even completing it because I accidentally spent too long away from it. I blame my dad always hogging the television.

“Have you played Breath Of The Wild yet?” His phone gives a short buzz and he pulls it out of the pocket of his pajama pants. Mark does a quick check of the screen before putting it back where it was. It must not have been very important.

“I haven’t had a chance to. I don’t have any of the new Wii consoles. I’ve played all the other ones. From what I’ve seen, it’s a beautiful game but I’ve been staying away from spoilers. When I actually get to play it, I want to be surprised.” I conclude, trying to get my point across. I’ve looked at a few screen shots and seen some of the trailers, though I don’t want to know a lot before I get to play it.

“Hey, Days.” Mark starts and I hum in response. I look up to see him doing _that_ smile again. My heart betrays me and flutters once again.

“You didn’t stutter. You just gave me a full answer without stuttering or pausing.” He seems so pleased with himself, even more so as I begin to blush. He’s right. I managed to keep my voice completely even in front of him. I guess I’m getting more comfortable around him. I shouldn’t be letting him get this close to me _this_ fast. It’s too soon for me to trust him. I blame it on the fact that I’m really worn out and the tea made me tried. Yeah, that’s it. It’s nothing more than that.

“I-I, uh,” I stop myself from continuing, not even knowing where to go with a response. It just seemed appropriate for me to say something in return, though I don’t know what that would be. Of course, instead of actually figuring what to say, I start stuttering random stuff, trying to form some sort of coherent sentence. Luckily, Mark starts chuckling and stands up, stopping me from making a complete fool of myself.

“It’s nice to see that we’re making progress. While this was fun, I do have to head out. Even though Jack and Wade spent their days in their hotel rooms, they want me to take them out for supper. Unless you want to join us.” I accidentally cringe at the offer. I’m worn out as it is never mind trying to be active with some high energy people. That and they’re probably going to be swarmed by fans the second they enter a public area. It’d be extremely awkward for me; someone that isn’t as well known. It just sounds like a nightmare to me. For today at least.

“I’ll take that as you’re _really_ busy but you’d be there if you could.” Mark gives me a wink and I respond with a simple smile. He already knows me too well.

“T-Thank you,” I say, hoping it sounds as sincere as I mean it to be. He’s helped me so much today.

“Any time, Days. See you later.” Mark gives me a quick wave and turns away, leaving my small kitchen. I notice the tag sticking out of his t-shirt and my hand twitches to fix it but I leave it be. I’m sure he’s changing before he heads out for supper anyways so it won’t matter. The second I hear the front door click shut, I let out a groan of frustration directed at myself. I feel so weak for letting Mark see me in such a horrible state. I feel so weak for feeling anything towards him. I don’t need anyone to lean on. It’s too much work to have friends. It’s too much work and then they just leave anyways. It’s even worse to be friends with anyone who’s popular like that. There would be rumours. There would be hate from fans. They’d probably think I’m doing _stuff_ with him because that’s the only way he would hang out with someone like me.

If I don’t want to be friends with Mark, it’d be almost impossible to avoid him. Texts, tweets, talking through the wall, and now he knows where my spare key is. _I really hope he put that back_. I’d actually have to move in order to avoid him and I can’t actually afford to do that. LA is expensive to live in without a second person and I can’t put up with someone long enough to live with anyone. I’m just going to have to be nice and hope that he gets bored of me before I get too attached. Yeah, that’s what I’ll stick with. I don’t want to get close to him but I’m not going to act terrible towards Mark because that’s not the type of person I am but I will just keep my distance.

 

_Or at least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! We're getting into longer chapters now and seeing a lot more of Mark coming into Days' life. I'm really getting into this and have planned much more ahead than I probably should be. The next chapter will start in the morning of Vidcon's prep day, so stay tuned for that.


	11. Chapter Eleven ~ One Whole Outfit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's the day. Days is completely prepared to the best of her abilities. Everything's planned out to a T. Well, it was planned out to a T.

I get that people hate Mondays. For some it's going back to school, something that I felt a lot when I was there, and for other it's just because it's the start to another long, boring week. I hated my Monday because it was the most stressful, annoying day. I didn't even do that much. I made up a few lunches, I practiced all of my set list, and I tried not to simply lay on the floor, regretting every decision I’ve ever made. Surprisingly, I managed to keep myself from having another mental breakdown. I ended up writing my set list on my left arm with a few chords just to help a little. I didn't see or hear from Mark, though Jack started following me on Twitter.

Now I don't want to get out of bed. This seems like it happened a few days ago but this time, it's different. The other day it was because I felt like I just needed to sleep forever. This time, however, it's because my stomach won't stop turning in nervousness. Last night I set myself an alarm for ten so I could get up and have more than enough time to get everything done to be at the venue for three. That would include getting my guitar packed up, eating, getting showered, dressed, vocal exercises, and get on the bus. I had to plan out everything to the exact time or else I would freak out even more.

Sadly, I’ve been awake since five, which was a good four hours ago. I know that if I get up now, I’ll be pacing around my apartment, stressing myself out more than I am already. I have kicked off my blanket because I got really hot but now being only in my underwear and a baggy t-shirt, I’m starting to get cold again. It should be fine. I only have another five or so minutes until my alarm actually goes off. Maybe the cold will help ease my anxiety a bit. I stare at the white ceiling, trying to focus on something except my impending doom of today. Yesterday I practiced in my living room in case Mark was recording and, trust me, I practiced a lot. I’m pretty sure the only thing my brain can actually account for right now is lyrics and chords.

I feel myself relaxing into my bed again, trying to see if I can get those last few seconds of sleep in before my alarm blares in my ear. Just as my eyes begin fluttering shut, a loud sound causes me to jump awake. I sit up in a panic, trying to figure out what happened. It's not my alarm, I know that much. A few seconds later, the sound comes again. Oh shit, it's the front door. Jumping out of bed, I race to my living room, almost skidding to come to a stop. Who in the hell is at my door at this time of day?! I quickly unlock the door and open it before the person can get annoyed with my slowness. The second the door is pulled back, I come face to chest with a fairly muscular body. By me saying ‘fairly muscular body’, I mean a completely bare stomach.

“Good morning,” Wait, I recognize that cheery voice. I look up to see a kind of scruffy brown beard and sparkling brown eyes. Oh no, nope, this isn't happening. My eyes widen and I take a step back so I can actually see Mark, standing in front of my apartment, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and holding two mugs with sayings on them. I suddenly become aware of my lack of clothing, specifically on my bottom half. Also _his_ lack of clothing, specifically his top half. I quickly move behind the door, shielding most of myself from his view.

“Mark, w-what are you doing here?” I ask, still in shock over what's happening. This is _not_ how I planned my morning to go! Actually, I didn't expect to see him at all today. He smiles at me but raises an eyebrow as to why I’m hiding myself. He doesn't seem fully awake right now, meaning he probably didn't notice when I initially opened the door.

“Well, I know how stressed you were about today so I thought I’d bring over my morning coffee and a tea for you. No dairy before singing, right? I hope you like this weird fruity one that I have from my mom.” Mark seems so proud of himself for doing such a good deed. This would probably be a very sweet thing that he remembered I’m anxious about it but, well, I’m not wearing any pants. Also, he's not wearing a shirt. Why is he not wearing a shirt?! I stand there for a moment, my face probably the colour of his hair, not knowing what to tell him. He seems to notice my internal dilemma and shifts on his feet.

“So...can I come in?” Mark finally asks, realizing that my side of the conversation is going nowhere anytime fast. As sexy as he looks right now, I probably look like a dying animal. _Wait, what?_

“I-I’m not wearing pants.” I finally admit, embarrassed beyond belief. Even when changing between scenes for plays, it's just straight up awkward to have people see me in my underwear. This time, Mark’s eyes widen in surprise, though for only a brief moment.

“Well, I’m not wearing a shirt. Put the two of us together and we have one whole outfit. Now, can I come in?” The brown eyed man smiles at me with mischief, probably enjoying me being flustered. I don't take any offense to it. Despite having a sister, I grew up around boys like my cousins so it was normal for them to tease me all the time.

“Not until I-I put on pants.” I reply, trying not to simply curl up into a ball and die from the awkwardness. He couldn't have showed up a half hour later, no, he had to show up before I even had a chance to put on _pants_. I start closing the door slowly to tell him I’m going to find proper pajamas.

“You can borrow mine if you want.” Mark calls out from the other side of the door, humour more than evident in his tone. He really seems to enjoy messing with me, though, at the same time, he was there when I really need someone. Nah, there’s no need to think into it. Casually, I remind myself what I decided on Sunday. I won’t get attached to him, I promise that to myself.

“Uh, wait t-ten seconds then you can come i-in.” I tell him as I leave the door open slightly. I figure that it’d be quite difficult to open the door fully with the mugs. Wait, how did he knock like he did? Never mind, I’m looking too far into it. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and make a break for my bedroom before Mark can even think about coming inside. With shaking hands, I grab a pair of Supernatural themed pajama pants off the ground and pull them on. I guess it’s nice that he’s distracting me from really thinking about how bad my anxiety will be the second I’m actually at the venue. Just as I tie the strings to the bottoms, my entry door clicks shut. I head back towards the kitchen, trying to comb out my hair the best I can without a hair brush.

“So, I wasn’t really sure how long to actually keep the tea in for and I kind of forgot about it for a while. It was in there for like five, ten minutes.” Mark starts talking the second he hears my light footsteps while setting the cups down onto the counter. I slowly walk up and stand as far away from him as possible. Whatever cologne he’s wearing, while there’s only a hint of it, is intoxicating. I can’t quite put a name to it but it’s slightly vanilla and slightly ginger. It’s easy to tell that he put it on yesterday, though that doesn’t stop it from driving me mad. That combined with his bare chest is enough to make me want to keep my distance. His slight v-line matches his pretty toned abs extremely well. It seems like those recent trips to the gym are doing wonders for him.

“Yours is in the ‘gamers don’t die, they respawn’ one.” Mark continues on, taking a sip from his ‘good morning, I see the assassins have failed’ mug. He has no idea that I’m freaking out like some stupid fangirl, just a little ways away from him. This is such a new feeling to me and, to be honest, it scares me. I don’t find many people attractive so what’s going on here? Wait, did he say he steeped the tea for ten minutes? I grab my tea from near him and slid it to my side of the counter. Man, I really hope that this doesn’t have caffeine in it or I’m going to have one hell of a day. Not that it’s not going to be like that already.

“I figured that you might want a ride to the convention so you don’t have to carry your guitar on the bus or call a taxi. I have to head over there to meet up with Jack and Wade around noon to pick up passes and we were planning on watching at least some of the performances. They were provided a hotel room at the place the convention’s being held. The best part, you can’t say you’re busy because we’re all heading to the same place. You’re not getting out of this one.” Even though I’m processing everything he’s telling me, I simply can’t concentrate on anything but the mug in my hands. I’d rather look like I’m contemplating this cup than get caught staring at Mark’s chest. The red liquid is much thicker and darker than I’m guessing it’s supposed to be. It’s fairly worrying. I can honestly say that I’ve never forgotten a leaf pouch for this long. Okay, I can’t not ask.

“Mark,” I begin and he hums while sipping his coffee. He probably expects me to try and get out of accepting the ride but that’s not even on my mind right now.

“Why aren’t you wearing a-a shirt?” I question him, looking into his glasses covered eyes. I mean, it’s not that I’m complaining, necessarily, it’s a logical question. He knew that he was coming over here so why didn’t he put one on beforehand? Realizing what I’m asking, he smiles, showing off his white, slightly pointed side teeth. I’ve always been a bit jealous of his perfect teeth. My two front teeth have a bit of a gap that always makes me self-conscious of my smile. Then again, it’s my fault for not getting braces.

“I couldn’t find the one I was wearing last night.” His response is rather stupid, in my opinion. It doesn’t really explain anything to me, even though he looks pleased with himself.

“Why didn’t you grab a-another one then?” Now I’m sure that Mark’s just messing with me. I still don't get why guys feel the need to tease me about little things like my innocence and the fact that I’m just easily embarrassed. _Not that I don't mind it._ What? Something is really wrong here.

“Because I’m going to get dressed right away anyways. No need dirtying a new shirt when I’m changing within the hour.” I open my mouth to argue against his point, since he is in my apartment, but quickly realize that it’s pointless and take a sip of my over-steeped tea instead. The flavour is extremely strong, though, all in all, it’s not as bad as I expected. There are hints of strawberry, orange, and raspberry all mixed together. Maybe the term ‘hints’ isn’t the proper term here because it’s not exactly subtle. The warm liquid running down my throat calms my nerves slightly, making me relax into the wall beside me. I can even hear the very faint sound of my alarm coming from my bedroom, though it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. It’ll turn itself off in a little bit.

“How’s the tea?” Mark asks, giving a short wave to the mug that I’m still holding tightly. I’m probably holding it a bit too tight, honestly. I’m just scared of dropping it.

“I-It’s good. T-The leaf pouch was left i-in for a bit too long, though.” I tell him truthfully, though he gives me a weird look. His eyebrows come together and his nose scrunches up, just in the slightest. It’s a cute look, though I can’t understand why he’s making it right now. He even said that he left it for too long.

“Leaf pouch?” Mark quotes me, looking like he’s about to start laughing again. My face flushes at how stupid it sounds now. It’s always been a joke to myself so I’ve never actually said it aloud before. Now that he’s repeating it back, I feel like an idiot.

“I-I mean, tea bag.” I quickly correct myself before he can confirm my stupidity. I’m giving him ammo for helping make my embarrassed. It’s just a natural talent for me.

“How long did you live in London for? How did they let you get away with calling it like that?” Mark takes a step towards me, whether it’s on purpose or not, I have no clue and I don’t really want to know. I lean further into the wall, forcing myself not to move to the complete over side of the counter to have distance. His cologne is more prominent the closer he gets and it scared me that it makes me feel more at home than I’ve even been. I need to focus on something else.

“Fine, I-I won’t say it again.” I fake pout, trying to show less emotion than I’m feeling. Usually I do this with only my anxiety. I take a huge sip of tea, not caring that it’s still pretty hot. At this point, I don’t care if it burns my tongue. It doesn’t, but still, I would have been completely okay if it did. I put the mug onto the counter, worried that if I keep it in my hands, I’ll chug it all in attempt to ease the awkwardness coming from me. Mark just seems to be amused.

“No, no, it’s cute. You should keep calling it that.” Did he just call me cute. No, I’m thinking too far into this. My brain’s a mess right now from lack of sleep and uneasy thoughts for later. Oh, I haven’t had breakfast yet. I move away from Mark, trying to keep my pace light so it doesn’t seem like I’m running from him. Heading into the kitchen, I grab some strawberries and grapes from the fridge. I put them on the counter and pull out a cutting board from next to the toaster. I start cutting up the strawberries with a small knife and I move the pieces so that they’re out of the way. As I’m doing this, Mark makes sure to snag a few and I don’t stop him. Once my anxiety kicks back in, I’ll regret having anything in my stomach because I know I’ll start feeling sick. It’s a regular thing.

“I have to ask, how are you feeling about today?” My hand twitches at the sudden question and I cut further on the strawberry than I planned, just missing my pointer finger my less than a centimeter. He couldn’t have waited until after I ate something? My whole body gets a flood of anxiety and I put down the knife, deciding that I’ve cut up enough. My heart is increasing it’s speed pretty fast now. An image flashes through my mind of me standing on a stage, looking out at over a thousand people that are waiting for me to entertain them. Curse my vivid imagination. I quickly pick up a strawberry and shove it in my mouth, despite my stomach aching at me. Mark slides my mug over to me and I happily accept it the stupid leaf water. Why do I have to be like this?

“Sorry, I’ll take that as a ‘not so good’.” Mark gives me an apologetic look and I heavily sigh. I wave him off, popping another half of a strawberry into my mouth. I attempt to focus on its sweet, sugary taste, rather than my panic. There’s nothing I can really do about it now. I’ve done as much practicing I can without throwing out my voice and I’ve listened to the songs on repeat for hours on end. It’d be rude of me to not perform after all this preparation that was done to make their schedule. My name is already on the performance list and at least a few people are expecting specifically me to play. If I back out now, I’m sure that Vidcon wouldn’t invite me back next year.

“Well, uh, I’m planning to head out at twelve. I have a bad feeling that we might get mobbed before we get into the building so that should give us enough time to get everything done around the time the AwesomesauceTV stage starts. Sound good?” If Mark’s trying to distract me, it sure isn’t working, though it’s good information for later.

“Yeah, t-thanks.” I manage to get out, despite being completely consumed by my thoughts. I guess it’s good that he’s giving me a ride. I don’t have to use my bus tickets and I’ll have someone to force me to go. This way I can’t let my anxiety get the better of me, even if I want to. Drinking some more tea, I grab a small, folded paper that’s simply sitting on the stone top, off to the side. I manage to open it up with one hand, revealing handwriting that looks more like scribbles. On the bottom of the page is an almost illegible signature. I guess I brought the sheet back out here at some point and forgot about it. I mean, what do I even do with it? Something tells me that if I throw it out, my fans will freak out on me, so I just left it here

“Mark,” I start, making sure that he’s not lost in his own thoughts like I usually am. I tear my gaze away from the paper to look up at him. Mark is just leaning on the wall, watching me.

“What’s up?” Before I can overthink anything, I toss the note to his side of the counter. It lands right in front of his left elbow, still folded in half.

“Your writing i-is pretty messy.” I say, finishing off the last bit of my tea. I’m going to have to brush me teeth pretty good to get the taste out of my mouth. It’s fine, it’s not like it’s all that bad of a taste. Mark picks up the paper and reads it, squinting his eyes as he does. He’s probably having just as much trouble as I did with reading it. Even my normal cursive writing is easier to read and many people don’t know how to read cursive anymore. After reading over it, he tosses it back towards me.

“It’s usually better than that. I was rushing for some reason or another. I wouldn’t have written that note if you actually answered your door at the time.” While his words could have been said in annoyance, Mark uses them as another tease. Not knowing how to respond, I grab a grape and munch on that. The more I eat, the more upset my stomach gets. It feels like my insides are clouded up with some type of smoke that won't go away. Even the fact that Mark’s shirtless doesn't make me awkward enough to ease the pent up feeling ripping through me. I slowly push my mug back towards him to signal that I’ve finished. The clock on the stove tells me that it's already ten thirty, meaning if I don’t get started on getting ready soon, I might not be ready in time. This isn't a ‘girls take _forever_ to get ready’ thing, it's a ‘if I don't do proper warm ups, I’m going to kill my voice before the convention even really starts’ thing.

“T-Thanks for the tea,” I make sure to thank him, at least for trying. It's difficult to make tea for someone if you don't know what they like, just like it's difficult to make someone coffee if you don't ask them. Mark shoots back whatever he has left in his cup and takes the one I had. He looks more awake than he was before, that's for sure. Unlike me, he does seem well rested, which is good. He’ll need more energy than I will with the amount of fans he has.

“No problem. I should get back and get things tied away before we head out. I’ll come get you in a while.” Mark smiles at me and I give him a small one back. With both mugs in hand, he heads to the exit while I follow him. As empty as this apartment feels, leaving my door unlocked when I’m here alone probably isn't the best idea. The last thing I need is someone robbing me when I can't do anything against them. Mark moves both handles info one hand as he opens the door to head into the hall. Right as I’m about to shut the door behind him, he turns around to face me once again.

“Hey, Days.” He tilts his head slightly and I hum out in response.

“I know where your tattoo is.” Mark gives me a full smile again, watching as my cheeks tint a light pink. I shut the door on him before he can make any other comments and click the lock in place. It's not that the tattoo is embarrassing or in a weird place, it's just somewhere he shouldn't be looking. I put my hand onto the top of my right thigh, a little bit below my hip bone. Obviously he noticed I wasn't wearing pants when I opened the door. I breathe out and brush it off. That should be the least of my worries right now. Hell, I don’t even know if he actually knows or if he’s just messing with me again. I need to clear my mind and focus on getting everything prepared.

I start off with a simple shower, hoping that will clear my mind, at least for ten minutes. No such luck it seems as I get out within six minutes, not being able to spend that long alone with my own taunting thoughts. Getting dressed isn’t too much of a problem. I pick out a light blue, jersey style t-shirt with my logo printed on one of the sleeves and a pair of plain black jeans. I decided to stick with that shirt, not because it promotes who I am but because it covers the bandage, which I reapplied, and shows my cheat sheet, which I wrote over again. I braid my hair to the side so I can put on my music note beanie later. While this is going on, I make sure to sing over my set list, restarting every time I get any lyrics wrong. Luckily, it doesn’t happen often.

By the time that’s all done, it’s about eleven thirty. I tune my guitar and pack it up with the case from my bedroom closet. I find myself either pacing, rushing from one side of the apartment to the other, or taping my foot on the ground for the moments I stand still. All that seems to be left is doing a few more vocal exercises while drinking a lot of room temperature water. I turn on the television in my living room and set up my laptop with some piano instrumentals. It’s the normal way of preparing for stuff like this. Piano helps me find different keys before I have to transfer it over to guitar. Picking from my playlist I have made, I start off with Missing You by All Time Low. Trying not to just awkwardly stand there, I put my sign language to the test. I taught myself a few years ago because I talk with my hands way too much and I still remember most of it. I’ve had a few deaf fans that really enjoyed it, which makes me happy.

I move on to This Is Gospel by Panic! At The Disco, starting to get more lost in the music. After that one ends, I continue for a few more songs, finishing it off with Stay by Mayday Parade. Just as it ends, I sigh, knowing I can do this. I mean, this confidence will undoubtedly leave the second I’m about to step on stage, or the second I step out of this apartment. Even so, at this very moment, I know I can do it and that’s more than I’ve had every other time I’ve performed. Maybe this means I’m getting closer to overcoming my stage fright. _Nah_. I take a quick look at the time and shut everything down. Mark should be showing up any minute now and I’d rather be completely ready when he is.

Since my guitar is already in the living room, I head to my room and put on my beanie. My hair is almost dry, which is good. Usually it takes at least three hours to dry because it's so long. When it's braided like I have it, it ends up a bit above my chest. I do pull my bangs to let them still cover some of my forehead. It feels uncomfortable right now, though I’ll thank myself when it comes time to go on and my hair isn't interfering with my guitar strings. I head back to the living room just as a knock sounds from my door. My breath hitches in my throat, for some reason, and I gather up my stuff. I quickly open up my little bag and check my wallet for a valid form if ID. I’m almost positive they’re going to ask for a piece when I get there. Sure enough, I have my driver's license put into one of the slots with a god awful picture of me without glasses on it.

Another knock comes from the door and I shake my head, putting everything back in its place. I throw one of the bag straps over my shoulder and pick up my guitar with the opposite hand. With every step closer towards the door, the more my heartbeat catches up to me. The second I walk out of that door is the second this all starts. It’s the second that the convention and socialization begins for me, which will continue for the next four days, including today. Crowds of people, loads of screaming, and people watching my every move. This isn’t going to be easy for me, though I’m sure I can get through it. I unlock the door and open it for the second time today. Mark is standing a few steps away from my door, fully dressed this time. Thank god.

“Hey, ya ready?” He asks, looking at the black guitar case in my hand. I nod my head, walking into the hall and closing the door behind me. I remember to lock it with the set of keys I always keep in my bag before we head towards the elevator. Mark clicks the button and leans against the wall beside it, turning back towards me. He’s wearing a simple black t-shirt with a grey, knitted cardigan over top, and a pair of blue jeans. I’m sure he’ll start dressing more fancy when it gets to the full days of the convention but right now he seems to be going for more of a comfortable look. The red in his now brushed hair is actually beginning to fade, which makes me wonder if he’s planning to dye it again or just let it change back.

“I figured we should take the elevator in case you trip down the stairs. Again.” Mark explains as the elevator doors part and I give him a fake laugh. Even though he’s trying to tease me, something tells me it’s an actual concern for him. We both step inside the small area and begin our way to the ground floor. It’s a small elevator for a small apartment but it’s enough to fit Mark, my guitar, and I pretty well. I wouldn’t have more than five people in here at a time, though, in fear of it being too much for it to handle.

“Jack and Wade are both excited to actually meet you. I know that you’ve technically already had an introduction but now you get to fully know them. It’ll be fun, trust me.” Mark adds the last part when he sees the doubt on my face. I’m not a very high energy person so I don’t know how well I’ll fit into their little group. I’m assuming not very well but Mark seems to be confident that it everything is going to be okay. I hope he’s right. I look up at him to see his eyes sparkling with ambition. He’s really hoping that everything is going to go great. I don’t know why but I feel like I can’t let him down. Okay, here’s where four years of acting comes in handy. I put on a fairly convincing smile, just for him.

“I-I’m excited to meet them too.” I tell him, not fully lying. I’m excited to meet them, not necessarily to hang out with them. Those two seem like really cool people, though maybe a bit too much for me. It’s fine, it’ll all be fine. Mark’s smile grows and the edges of his eyes crinkle in true happiness. The expression sends a flutter through my heart. The elevator doors open and we walk out into the lobby, heading for the main exit. I should probably check my mail at some point, especially since the boxes are right here, though I’ll save it for when I’m coming back tonight.

“That’s great! They’ll probably want to go out for supper again after all the performances are done. Is that okay?” Even though Mark’s leaving it completely up to me, his whole body language says screams that he wants me to say yes. I’ve managed to get out of this twice already and I truly have no excuse considering I’ll already be there with them. Knowing this, I give him my answer.

“Yeah, sure.” I’m hoping that when it comes time for my interview, I’ll be able to give longer answers than the ones I’m giving Mark right now. He’s a good guy and all but my focus is more on making sure I don’t start to panic again. Also keeping my guitar from hitting the ground. Since I’m so short, I have to hold the case a certain way or it drags on the ground, which isn’t very good for it. Mark hold the door open for me and we get outside. I let him lead the way to the parking lot and towards a red car.

“This one’s mine,” He states, unlocking the door with his key chain. I don’t recognize the type or make of the car, all I know is that it’s red, which is pretty predictable for Mark. Man, my mechanic of a dad would be pretty disappointed. Oh well, it's not like I haven't disappointed him numerous times already.

“You can put the guitar in the backseat on the floor. It should be safe there.” Mark tells me and I do as he says. It's really nice out today. The sun is pretty high but it's not as hot as it usually is. The street doesn't look too heavy with traffic, surprisingly. Actually, it seems fairly calm. I’m hoping that will rub off on me. I shut the back door and head around to the passenger side. Mark’s already in the driver’s side, waiting for me to be ready. I hop in, careful not to slam the door too hard. I put on my seat belt and nervously play with my bracelets. My heart jumps when the engine starts, though my body stays pretty still. Okay, it's fine, I got this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading this new chapter! I know it's shorter compared to the ones I usually get out but this is more of a transition chapter into the very beginning of Vidcon. I hope you guys liked Mark messing with Days quite a bit. Anyways, I have a lot planned for the chapters ahead so be prepared.


	12. Chapter Twelve ~ I Didn't Sign Up For This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days is stressing on the impending doom of going on stage while trying to keep a straight face in front of Jack, Wade, and Mark.

The ride to the venue is quiet, other than the radio playing in the background. It's not a bad quiet. The silence is actually kind of nice. At least it keeps me from having to make awkward small talk. The traffic isn't very good so what should have taken us a ten minute drive took closer to thirty. On the plus side, I got to see a bunch of places that I haven’t yet. I mean, none of them were really interesting and I’m sure, if asked to recall, I wouldn’t be able to remember a single name of any of the business. That’s mostly because I was reading over my set list and rehearsing what I’m going to say to the crowd. Just like the businesses, I probably won’t be able to remember any of it in the next three hours.

 

Finally, we pull up to the property of the venue. The building is completely made of a cream coloured stone with large windows for each and every room. The front yard is paved and has an elegant fountain right in the middle with gorgeous flowers planted all the way around it. Most noticeable of all is the huge stage set up to the left of the building and the people scattered everywhere. There are security guards all over the place, though I’m sure the ratio of security to customers is at least one to five. Mark pulls the car up to the front steps where a man is waiting to park it for him. I’m sure this is much safer than having a bunch of people trying to park themselves at one. He turns the car off and takes the keys out of the ignition before turning to look at me. 

 

“Here we are. Don't forget to grab your guitar before we head in.” I nod my head in response and take off my seatbelt. My hands are already slightly shaking, proving difficulty for opening the door. I do manage to get out and grab my guitar in time to see Mark handing off they keys. Shutting the back door, I watch him put the ticket the young man gave him into the wallet he takes out of his pocket. The young man heads over to the driver side and starts heading over to where the rest of the cars are parked. There’s still quite a bit of space, probably because we’re still about two hours early for the music. If we got here any later, I’m sure it’d be more difficult for them to find spots. Mark looks over at me and smiles, probably noticing my uneasiness about the situation. Just as I begin to walk over to him, a loud screech of a scream comes from my right. I jump at the sound and I notice his chest twitch, as if he’s suppressing a laugh. 

 

“ _ Oh my god, it’s Markiplier! _ ” The shout comes again and I stop in my tracks while four of five teenage girls swarm the red haired man. I can’t even see his face anymore, though I know I’d be feeling uncomfortable. All of them start talking at once and I decide to just walk towards the building from the side. I’d rather not get caught up in this. I don’t go up the steps, not really knowing where Mark and I are supposed to be heading anyways. I simply watch him try to get them to be quiet so he can take some pictures and I catch him saying he’s in a rush. He’s trying to be polite as possible but they’re barely even letting him speak. The situation doesn’t last for more than a minute before a security guard decides to intervene. 

 

“You guys can’t stand here. We’re keeping this area clear for parking.” The brown haired, fairly bulky man in a black and yellow shirt tells them, luckily not bringing me into this. I do take a few steps closer so that Mark knows we can go in whenever. Mark puts on a side smile at the girls, who seem pretty disappointed. 

 

“Sorry girls, I have to get going anyways. Lots of stuff to get in order. I hope I get to meet you all again later.” He gives them a wave and begins heading up the steps, me in tow. The guard also follows, probably making sure nothing starts with Mark in the middle of it. I start walking right next to Mark, careful not to trip over the stairs. He notices me instantly and gives me a breathless laugh.

 

“ _ This  _ is why we got here early.” I giggle a bit, knowing that he’s completely right. It’d be even more insane if we came later. The guard clears his throat, grabbing our attention as we reach the front doors. The double doors slide open automatically, though I could see right through the shining glass.

  
“For the safety of you two and every at the venue, the staff would appreciate any and all featured creators to get your passes as soon as possible. You will also be paired with your own security during the whole time you’re on the venue property.” His words are more than rehearsed, though I understand why. The people running the event probably drilled it into his head. We both nod at him, stopping for a moment as he does.

 

“Yeah, of course. We’re just going to head to the hotel area and pick up some other creators before heading there.” Mark explain but the man seems to have lost interest pretty quickly. I don’t think it’s in a rude way, I think it’s because that isn’t his job. His job is to keep the front area safe and to tell YouTubers to get their passes. Taking that as a yes, Mark and I head into the formal looking lobby area. It’s obviously used for more professional meetings most of the time, judging by the crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. There are long, folding tables set up next to the regular front desk with volunteers answering questions for attendees while the front desk is trying to help their normal customers. It’s not total chaos, though it’s not calm either. 

 

I get lost in watching people go about their lives. There’s a middle aged couple, trying to take care of what I can only assume is a hotel room. The blonde haired woman is hugged tightly to her brunette husband’s arm, staring at the room of young adults and teenagers in what seems to be fear. She chose the worst time to go on vacation. Or at least, the worst time to get a room here. I don’t get how she’s this tense, though. She was our age once. Maybe she’s one of those ‘this generation is the laziest, most terrible generation’. I don’t understand those kinds of people. After all, her generation contains the people who raised our generation. I’m thinking too hard about this.

 

A sudden hand on my arm jolts me back to reality as I almost flinch back. Following the grey fabric covered arm, I look up at Mark. He’s staring at me with the most confused look possible and I don’t blame him. This probably isn’t the best place to blank out, especially since the door opens and more people come inside the building. I shake my head to clear my mind, knowing that I’m only spacing out like I am because I’m anxious. God, this already isn’t going well.

 

“We’re heading this way. Jack and Wade are meeting us on the fourth floor on the hotel side. If we stand  _ here  _ any longer, we’re going to be recognized.” Mark explains to me, waving towards the right side of the hotel. I wonder how long I managed to space out for. 

 

“Uh, yeah, lead the way. S-Sorry.” I can’t help but apologize as he lets go of my arm and starts heading to where we’re supposed to be. The movement sends the scent of his cologne at me. His stupid, nice smelling cologne. It’s more prominent than it was this morning, that’s for sure. I noticed it in the car, of course, I was hoping that because we’re in a crowded spot that it wasn’t going to be noticeable. I follow behind him, walking into a less populated area of the building. The couches in many areas of the room tell me that it’s supposed to be relaxed and sociable, unlike the business feel the rest I’ve seen gives off. Classy adults wearing tuxes and delicate gowns appear out of place with the other crowd in the lobby. Though, they are doubtlessly match the rest of the interior. 

 

“Days? Are you still with me?” With my free hand, I rub my temple before pushing up my glasses. Mark must think I’m insane. Then again, maybe I am.

 

“Yes, I-I’m here.” Mark clicks the elevator button and the door almost instantly opens. Instead of looking freaked out, his eyes scream concern. The hazel is easier to read now that he’s wearing contacts. His eyebrows are coming together and his lips are parted slightly. I’ve always been able to read faces, which came in handy when helping out in the program and acting. Sometimes it’s helpful but many times I try not to look into it to keep from hurting people. 

 

“Maybe physically but your head’s in the clouds.” We step inside of the metal elevator and Mark hits the floor number. It’s much more spacious in this one than the one in our apartment building. I try not to think too far into it, keeping myself in the present. The last thing I need is Mark worrying about me. 

 

“N-No, no, I’m good.” I offer no further explanation, not really knowing what to tell him anyways. I can’t explain my stupid brain’s process to myself, let alone another person. Doubt crosses his face before I look towards the clean floor. He'd be stupid to believe that lie. Even more so if he pushes me on it. The doors slide open while a small ‘ding’ sounds out. I let Mark into the hallway first and follow him. The bold white colour of the carpet on the floor starts to make me anxious. I really hope there’s nothing on the bottom of my shoes to destroy its purity. Damn, I’m over thinking again. I blank my mind to the best of my abilities and force myself to focus on keeping a tight grip on my guitar case. As I shift my attention, I notice the slight burning in my palm and carefully switch it into my other hand. 

 

Finally, we turn a corner and Mark stops in front of one of the doors. He knocks fairly hard onto the room labeled ‘413’ and steps back, waiting for someone to answer. A loud shout comes from somewhere on the other side of the wall and I raise my eyebrows. Well, Jack’s definitely in there. I tip my guitar so that it’s standing up and lean against it, trying to give my hands some relief. While I have the muscles required to carry it for a while, the skin on my palms don’t care for the rubbing. The door flings open and the green haired, blue eyed man appears. He’s smiling like crazy, even more so as he realizes my presence. Well, this is awkward considering the only other time I’ve met him, I probably seemed like a terrible, grumpy person.

 

“Hey! You guys finally made it!” He says in his energetic, naturally loud tone. He seems to be ready, wearing a blue hoodie, grey jeans, and a pair of white shoes. His mustache and beard style is pretty similar to Mark’s but looks recently trimmed, probably done just this morning.

 

“We’re right on time. One o’clock, just like I said. Wait, actually we’re early.” Mark pulls out his phone and turns the screen to show Jack. Sure enough, it’s 12:57. We still have a half hour until the Awesomesauce stage even starts and a whole hour until I’m scheduled. I do take note of his lockscreen. It’s a group picture of him, Felix, Jack, Wade, and Bob. I’ll admit that it’s cute in their stupidly dorky way. They’re all making stupid faces at the camera, even though, from what I’ve seen, they’re all photogenic. I, on the other hand, am not. There are only a handful of pictures of me that actually look good, which makes me feel bad when people ask me to take a picture with them. 

 

“Details, details. You guys ready to get going?” Jack asks, waving off like the details don’t matter. I think it’s his way of saying that he was waiting for us to show up and hoping that we’d be early. Even though his question is aimed at both of us, he keeps eye contact with Mark, not that I’m complaining. I’d rather that than him stare at me. 

 

“Yeah, whenever you two are ready.” Mark answers for both of us. I like not talking, this is a good thing. I just need to stay calm and not think about performing. On stage. In front of people. I feel sick again. I let my chin rest on the backs of my hands, gritting my teeth and attempting to regulate my slightly uneven breathing. It’s not even  _ that  _ bad. It’s just enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I take a moment to close my eyes, simply to get my mind back on track. 

 

“Alright,” I take Jack speaking again as a cue to look again. I open my green eyes just in time to see him turn back towards his room and take in a seemingly deep breath.  _ Uh oh.  _

 

“Wade! Get your goddamn butt out here so we can get our passes!” Jack all but shouts. I’m taking a wild guess here in thinking that him and Wade are sharing a room together. Also that they’re probably going to get at least one noise complaint. Wade appears behind Jack almost immediately, wearing a simple grey shirt and jeans. Well, I’m glad I’m not overdressed. He looks at Mark and waves to him before his gaze lands on me. I straighten my back, realizing that I probably look pretty unprofessional. Slouching over my guitar case can’t be the best second impression. Even so, he gives me a kind smile.

 

“Hey, Days. Nice to see you again.” Wade greets me, pushing Jack out of the hotel room and locking the door. Jack stays completely balanced and crosses his eyes, fake glaring at him. The exaggerated pout of his lips is the dead give away. 

  
“What if I needed something in there?” Jack points out, watching Wade roll his eyes in response. Mark is still standing off to the side, shaking his head at his two friends.

 

“You’ve been ready for the past hour and you grabbed your wallet and phone before answering the door. What could you possibly need in the next few hours?” Wade points out, matter-of-factly. While they’re fake arguing, I push my case back sideways so I’m carrying it properly again. I’ll admit, this is making me smile. They’re so over the top with this. Anyone just passing by would probably actually believe that they’re mad at each other if they can’t hear the playfulness in their tones. 

 

“Maybe I left my room key in there.” Jack sasses, actually fake checking his nails. Okay, I didn’t realize that he’s such a drama queen. Wade opens his mouth to retort but Mark manages to cut him off in time, raising his hands to catch their attentions.

 

“Alright, you old married couple. You can continue this while we head to get our passes. The performances already started ten minutes ago.” He tells them and starts heading back the way we came. As he passes me, he nods to tell me to follow. It wasn’t necessary, though I comply nonetheless. The other two stroll behind, dropping the previous topic quickly. 

 

“Yes, dad.” Jack mutters and smiles right after. Of course, Mark hears him, being only a few steps in front of him. I pick up my pace to stand beside Mark, not feeling comfortable enough to be next to the other two. 

 

“Don’t you mean ‘daddy’?” Mark looks over his shoulder at Jack, who winks in response.

  
“You know it,” He brings his voice up a few octaves, trying to make his tone more feminine. I look down at the carpet, feeling extremely awkward. I didn’t sign up for this. Mark clicks the button for the elevator the second we reach it and we wait for it to arrive. My pulse doesn’t seem to want to slow itself, though I make sure to keep a calm exterior. If any of them notice me freaking out, I’m sure they won’t hesitate to call me on it. 

  
“Even if you left your key, I have mine.” Wade breaks the second of silence just as the elevator arrives with a ‘ding’. 

 

“Shut up, Wade.” Both Mark and Jack say, almost in sync before walking inside. The comment doesn’t surprise me all that much and I follow them without hesitation. Wade lets out a dramatic sigh and gets in right as it was about to close on him. Mark hits the button for the ground floor.

 

“So, Days, you excited for your performance?” My eyes widen at the sudden question from Jack. I look up, noticing that my eyes automatically trailed to the ground. Mark is watching me with sympathy while the other two’s gazes hold curiosity. I understand that I’m new to them and they most likely don’t trust me all that much but that’s a poor first question to ask me at an even poorer time.  _ Am  _ I excited? Not to the extent that I probably should be as a musician and a YouTuber. I’m getting exposure for my channel, which is great. I just can’t seem to let the excitement overpower the anxiety that’s making my stomach turn. Instead of voicing all of that, I force a smile that doesn’t even slightly reach my eyes.

 

“Yeah, I-I, uh, I am.” I lie, hoping that my response isn’t too delayed. By the look that crosses over his face for no more than a second, Mark doesn’t believe me, though the others seem satisfied. I don’t like how he can read me so well already.

 

“That’s good. We’re all excited to hear it.” Wade chimes in, bouncing back from them telling him to shut up. The elevator opens to the ground floor and we get out. Luckily, all of the elegantly dressed adults are gone because I’m positive they wouldn’t have approved of Jack’s bright green hair, which I’m positive he just re-dyed before coming here. I decide not to reply to Wade’s comment as there doesn’t seem to be a proper response. Not one that comes to my mind anyways.

 

“So, they passes should be this way.” Mark says, waving his hand towards the far side of the main lobby, past where the Vidcon help tables are. Jack lets out a hum in disagreement while shaking his head.

 

“No, I’m pretty sure we just pick them up here.” He argues, starting to stand in the fairly short line. The rest of us stop as well, not wanting to leave Jack standing there all alone. I actually believe Mark on this one, mostly because I think I remember reading about it somewhere. Still, I’m not going to verbally disagree with either one of them. I’ll let it play out as long as It doesn’t last until two. I figure they probably want me there a half hour early. 

 

“Dude, I’m sure they told use there’s a room off to the left for-” Mark starts but cuts himself off, noticing that we’re already at the front of the line anyways.

 

“I’ll just let you ask them.” He concludes, crossing his arms over his chest. I put my guitar back into a standing position to lean on again. Looking towards the left side of the table, I even notice a sign that says where to go for the passes. Oh well, too late now. 

 

“Hello, how can I help you?” The man behind the table with a neon yellow shirt asks, smiling at us brightly. There’s a spark of recognition at the sight of us, though he keeps his composure and waits patiently. If I had to guess, he's not actually allowed to ask for signatures or pictures. If he was allowed to, I’m sure it would take forever to help anyone. Jack clears his throat quickly. 

 

“We were wondering where we can pick up our passes.” The man’s eyebrows pull together for a moment, probably wondering why we didn't just follow the signs or, you know, follow the directions given in the email. Still, he continues smiling and carries on the polite manner he has to. 

 

“If you follow the signs here,” He pauses to wave at the directions that I noticed. Seriously, it's a large red sign with arrows on it, I couldn't have been the only one out of the four of us to notice it. 

 

“You should have no problems getting where you need to be. It's in ballroom one. The doors will be open and many tables will be set up in there. I promise that you can't miss it.” He looks over and makes eye contact with me. In response, I give him an apologetic smile. After all, it's only the prep day and he already has to deal with incredibly stupid questions that we should know the answers to. He tilts his head as an acceptance. 

 

“See, Jack, told you.” Mark instantly does the whole ‘I told you’ thing. I can’t help but roll my eyes at his childish nature. While a lot of his personality is mature, especially in serious situations, he still has a very child-like side to him. Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s nice to have someone around that has character and life to him. Me, myself, and I have never been very good at that. 

 

“Woah, was that sass?” Wade asks and I quickly look up at him, not even realizing he was watching me. After all, Mark and Jack are way more interesting to keep an eye on. I find Jack holding up a finger at Mark, midway to giving him a comeback but stops as he hears Wade’s comment. My face heats slightly, though not enough to be noticed in the lighting of the chandelier. 

 

“No, n-never.” Even my response has a slight hint of cheekiness to it. Wow, that sounds weird to think about. I guess the London wording didn’t really take hold of me in the time I was there. I definitely didn’t get out enough for it to impact my own speech hardly at all. Sometimes I do find myself slipping the accent in when I’m being lazy and just not paying attention. Other than that, I’m pretty much the same as I was when I lived in Canada. Well, speech wise anyways. I pick up my guitar properly, waiting for everyone else to start moving towards where we’re actually supposed to go. 

 

“Well, we should head off  _ this way _ before Days gets sassier or the people behind us start getting annoyed.” Mark waves a hand to the left and heads off, knowing we’d all follow him. As we do, Jack turns back to Wade and I, opening and closing his hand in a mimicking motion while mouthing ‘blah, blah, blah’. I can’t help but giggle slightly and Jack smiles at that. In the moment of distraction, the edge of his shoe gets caught on one of the tiles on the floor. His green eyes widen in surprise as his body starts tipping backwards. He does manage to catch himself before he can fully fall and turns around, though a catch a slight pink tint on his cheeks. Poor Jack is already embarrassing himself before the convention even technically started yet.

 

“Hey, Jack, try to keep your balance. Days already trips enough at it is and I can’t watch both of you to make sure you’re not falling.” I guess Mark noticed, even though he’s facing the other way. I cover my mouth in attempt to keep quiet. I mean, he’s not wrong.

 

“What are you talking about? She seems very well balanced.” Wade says, still walking next to me. I smile at him, feeling touched that he believes in me. It’s funny that he does but still nice. All of a sudden the tile floor turns to carpet as we enter the hallway and my the edge of  _ my  _ shoe catches on it. I let out a rather unpleasant squeak as I stumble, almost falling into Jack’s back as I do. Unlike most times, I stand back up without too much struggle and let out a breath of relief. My heart is pounding against my chest, more than it was from the adrenaline. Oh come on, I was doing really good. Wait, didn’t I say that right after I accidentally cut my arm open? I feel like this is becoming a regular thing. That’s probably not a good thing.

 

“You were saying?” Mark looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Wade. I do catch him take a glance to make sure I’m okay. That’s nice of him, I guess. Following the  _ arrows _ , like we are supposed to, we find the ballroom packed with probably just under a hundred people. I take a quick inhale, not liking the size of the crowd. Why did I think accepting the offer to join this? I knew that I would have this problem. I guess I’m just stupid and wanted to push myself. I just have to think of it as me trying to get more publicity. As long as I don’t over think it, I’m sure everything will be fine. After all, I still have these three with me. Worse comes to worse, I have them as decoys and I can make a run for it.

 

“I think that’s where we’re supposed to go.” Mark points over to a table with a sign that says ‘Youtubers’ in big, bold red letters. 

 

“I feel like you’re right.” Wade responds and I nod in response. We get in line between who I think is Jacksfilms. He’s the only one, other than us, waiting right now. He’s asking questions to who I’m assuming is Hank and John Green. This is probably the last thing they could be doing right now, though it’s good to see them. I’m sure this is a great time for the two, getting to see their convention that started off so small now have about 2000 people attending. A security guard stands next to the YouTuber, seeming to be excited but managing a straight face. There are also ten other well built guys in security uniforms leaning against the wall behind the table, waiting for Hank or John to give them any instructions. 

 

“Alright, thanks again.” The other Jack waves at the two creators and heads off with one of the guards trailing behind him. Man, I guess they weren’t joking about us each getting security to stick with us.

 

“Hey, you guys ready for your passes?” Hank asks and the four of us step forwards. 

 

“I think so,” Wade replies for all of us. I awkwardly shift my guitar to my other hand, my right hand starting to feel like it's going to fall off. I also fix my glasses and my hat while I’m at it, making sure I don't make a terrible first impression. If I do good this year, they might invite me back next year. 

 

“Okay, uh, let me just work on finding your passes.” John stands up and starts rummaging through a rather unorganized cardboard box filled with passes specifically to signify we're YouTubers. While he does that, Hank starts chatting with us. 

 

“So, you will be given a personal security guard. It might be a bit awkward but it's to ensure everyone’s safety. We ask that you take the back routes rather than the main ways because we've had some problems in the past with people basically mobbing around a single YouTuber. If you're feeling uncomfortable in a situation, just tell your guard that and they'll get you out of there.” He explains to us before looking down at a clipboard with a bunch of papers clipped to it. He flips through right as Hank starts handing out lanyards to us. I take mine with a small ‘thank you’ and look at it. The strap is black with the red play button on it every few spaces while the tag itself is gold. My YouTube name is written out in black marker with the gold text saying ‘featured creator’ underneath. I’m definitely going to keep this somewhere. With one hand I slip it over my neck, making sure that it's facing the right way. The other three do the same, though they aren't as impressed as me. Then again, they've been to Vidcon multiple times. 

 

“Days, you're with Hunter.” Hank states, pointing at the guy with medium length, raven black hair. The man looks up at the sound of his name, showing his light hazel eyes. Without hesitation, he walks over to stand beside me. He goes on to say Jack’s security, then Wades, and finally Mark’s. I didn't catch the name of any of the others’ names since I decided to get distracted by the fact that this guy is so damn  _ tall _ . He isn't even completely muscular or anything. He's just a giant! Damn, I feel bad for saying that. 

 

“Hunter,” He introduces himself, noticing my stare. His voice is deep and rough, just as you'd expect it to be just by looking at him. I try not to let my worries about his height get under my skin and instead hold a hand out for him to shake. By a hand, I mean my only free hand. 

 

“Days,” I practically whisper, hoping that he can hear me. If he can't understand my quiet tones, this is going to be a long and quiet convention. He gives me a smile and takes my hand in a single shake. Luckily he keeps his grip light and doesn’t try to crush my poor, small hand in his much larger one. Without any more of a conversation, I turn back towards the others. There’s really not all that much to talk about at this time. It’s not like Hunter and I are supposed to become best of friends or anything; it’s his job to follow me and make sure my presence isn’t going to make people get out of hands. I’m sure that wouldn’t happen anyways.

 

“So these guys are assigned to you for every day. From the time you get here to the time you leave, they should be somewhere near you. Do you guys have any questions?” John questions, noticing that they’ve got our attentions again. I slip my phone just slightly out of my pocket to check the time.  _ 1:40 _ . I’m sure there are many questions I’d love to ask them to help my anxiety rest, though I can’t seem to come up with any at the second. Most of my thoughts are consumed by the fact that I should be backstage soon so I can get myself set up. 

 

“What if I need to go to the bathroom?” Jack asks, mostly as a joke, though he’s keeping a pretty good straight face. John actually rolls his eyes and I see Hank stifle a groan.

  
“Jack, you asked that last year.” John states, hoping that he won’t have to actually answer the question again. I’m sure they’re going to get that a lot today from people trying to be funny. Like Jack. 

 

“I forget,” The edge of Jack’s lip twitches but he keeps himself from smiling. What a loser. John sighs in response.

 

“They wait outside until you come out because you guys are supposed to be using the ones in the back hallways, where there should only be other YouTubers.” He says every word carefully as a silent wish that Jack won’t ask again next year. I won’t be surprised if it doesn’t go through. At least I got valuable information out of it. I didn’t know there are bathrooms in the back ways. I’m sure I’ll go there just so I can get away from people. Before Jack can ask another question, which I could tell he was going to because he opened his mouth again, the radio on Hunter’s chest beeps and a slightly static voice comes through.

 

“Hey, Hunter, you got your assignment?” The unknown person asks and Hunter unclips the device to answer.

  
“Yeah, just got her. Why?” He lets go of the button, making eye contact with me. Why is this guy asking about me but not the others in the group? I mean, the other three are far more valuable YouTubers than I am. 

 

“Good, then get her over here asap. We’re ahead of schedule. She’s on in less than thirty.” My heart drops to my stomach. Oh, that’s why. I can see why the guy was asking about me now. My hand automatically finds my stomach, already getting the side effects of my anxiety. Hunter looks at my face up and down but doesn’t comment on anything to me even though his eyebrow raising says it all.

 

“On it,” With the simple answer, he clips it back on and nods his head towards the hallway as a way to tell me we’re leaving. I turn towards the guys and avoid eye contact while giving a small wave. I’d rather keep this brief before I break down into a full on anxiety attack right in front of them. 

  
“Oh, Days.” Hank suddenly saying my name stops me in my place and I turn back to the table. I tilt my head in question, not trusting my voice to come out in any way smooth. Despite my lack of words, he takes that as permission to continue. 

 

“We just wanted to thank you for joining us even though it was already so close to the date. The blanks in the schedule really needed to be filled and we’re glad you’re the one to fill them.” His tone is as polite and sincere as it could possibly be, which makes me give him a genuine smile though my panic.

 

“Thank you for a-allowing me t-to be a part o-of this.” My voice hitches in my throat more than usual, not that they would know that. I don’t usually stutter when I’m on camera and they’ve never met me in real life before. If they’re concerned about it, I’m sure they’ll just ask Mark after I leave. With that, I follow Hunter out of the still crowded ballroom and make our way further down the, away from the lobby. I reach up and fix my hat as we walk, more out of a need to do something in attempt to keep my mind off where we’re heading rather than my hat actually needing to be fixed.

 

“Do you want me to carry the guitar?” Hunter asks, looking at my arm sitting in a weird angle to keep the bottom of the case from touching the ground. I didn’t even realize I was doing that. I shrug, not looking him in the eye. I usually watch peoples’ mouths when talking to them anyways. It helps me to read lips otherwise I mishear people a lot. 

 

“Uh, no, I-I’m fine.” I tell him and raise the case up and down without a problem to prove that it doesn’t weigh all that much. He raises one of his shoulders, deciding not to push me further on it, which is for the best. I don’t like it when people carry my guitar for me. When someone carries it for me, it makes me feel like I’m weak and can’t carry my own instrument myself. 

 

“Okay well you need to text me whenever you’re about to get here each day so you aren’t walking around alone. Can I put my number into your phone?” He holds out his hand for my phone and I try to read his face, making sure that he’s not just doing this because he wants my number. Nothing about it says that he’s lying so I pull my phone out and unlock it, pulling up the contacts section. I put it into his hand and he quickly types whatever into it, occasionally looking up to make sure we’re going to right way. After a minute he hands it back to me and walks to the metal door at the end of the hall with a red exit sign over it. I follow him outside and find that we’re basically behind the stage. The sound of who I think is Sarah Close playing on stage fills the whole area around us and I can see the the large audience cheering for her. Man, I’m really glad I went through the list of people going and checked them all out or I’d be completely clueless right now. 

 

“Stay close!” Hunter yells over the music and I raise an eyebrow at him. We’re backstage, what’s the worst that could happen. Just as I was doubting him, someone runs past me, almost pushing me over. I jump out of the way, barely keeping my balance. I quickly nod at him, realizing what he meant. Many people are everywhere, trying to make sure everything is going as smooth as it possibly can. A huge board is set up with five people sitting in front of it, playing with the nobs to make sure the sound is the perfect volume. It’s chaotic and my breathing sketches at the sight. There are way too many people here for me to feel in any way comfortable. I stay as close as possible to Hunter without actually touching him, carefully avoiding touching anyone.

 

“We’re going to talk to this girl!” He points at the lady with her brown hair pulled up into a tight ponytail, motioning for one of the guys helping out to go somewhere to get something. He runs off without a second thought and we walk up to her. She doesn’t seem to notice our presence, too fixated on the iPad in her hands.

 

“Anita!” Hunter yells at her. Man, I wouldn’t be heard here without a megaphone. The lady jerks out of her thoughts and looks over, noticing us standing there. Her eyes widen at the sight, probably not expecting us here this fast. My teeth unconsciously clench as someone brushes my arm when they pass.  _ Please, no one touch me _ .

 

“There you are! We have to get you set up! Kim will help you, she’s over there with the equipment!” Anita points at the shorter lady standing next to the soundboard, looking, well, bored. I’m sure her job only comes into play every thirty minutes, meaning the rest of the time she just has to stand around.

 

“Thanks, I’ll see you later!” Hunter starts walking, knowing that I’ll follow. Even though he’s only known me for a short while, it can’t be hard to notice that I’ll stick by his side if it means I’m not going to be swept up in the hectic scene going on around us. Unlike Anita, Kim notices us coming over right away. She jumps up from the leaning position she had on the edge of the sound board. Her green eyes sparkle with excitement at the sight and she immediately pulls out a bunch of equipment before we’re less than thirty steps away from her. 

 

“Days! We need to get you set up right  _ now _ ! Sarah’s on her second last song of the set!” Kim shouts at me, untangling a wad of chords that look like a Tangela. She stares at the bunch for a second in surprise. I guess she must have untangled them just a little while ago. Poor girl. I set my guitar down along with my bag, triple checking that it’s not going to be tripped on and start helping her figure out how to fix the mess that was made. Hunter watches us in amusement as we both mutter to ourselves on how the chord goes over-no under- the other one. I count the time as we do, finally getting it right after one minute and twenty four seconds. 

 

“Thanks! You’re going to need this one first! We’re going to put these on mic, earpiece, guitar, and guitar mic! It shouldn’t take all that long! Do you know how to put it on?” She doesn’t even need to ask as I’m already slipping the mic around my ear and bending it in place. I then slip the box down my shirt and slip it into my pocket. Setting up for drama club plays really came in handy. She then hands me a little ear piece which I slip into the same ear the microphone is attached to. I see many people put it in the opposite but this way is just comfier for me.

 

“They won’t turn any of this on until you’re actually on stage so don’t worry about that!” Kim informs me, watching as I carefully bend down and open my case to show my deep blue guitar. When I bought this one, I made sure it looked like my first guitar I owned, which was the first instrument that got me interested in playing music. That’s another story for another time. I pull it out and grab the capo from the little compartment in the neck of the case. I also remember to slip a pick into my pocket before closing it back up and slipping it off to the side. I hope it will be safe here. I put the white ribbon I have for a strap over my head and position the guitar so it’s exactly where I want it to be. While choosing a ribbon isn’t the most comfortable option, I like it better than a regular strap. It adds more personality. Kim then hands me my guitar mic to plug in and I decide to clip it tightly onto the strap since I already have my microphone box in the right pocket of my jeans. There’s cheering from the crowd and Sarah starts saying something my mind can’t quite focus on.

 

“That’s the five minute mark! You have a minute after she gets off to be there and ready!” I nod my head, swallowing dryly. The panic is truly beginning to set in my veins. Fuck, this is the first time that I’ll be singing to such a large crowd. I start aimlessly picking away at my strings, playing something that turns out to be a mix of an Undertale song and something that my brain doesn’t want to process. The non-existent smoke around my lungs gets worse as I feel my body start shaking for no reason.  _ I could run away right now _ . I crinkle my nose at the thought. Of course that’s an option, a very appealing one at that, but I know I can’t. First, I don’t think Hunter would let that happen and second is that if I run from this, what’s to stop me from running away from all the other stages I’m a part of? 

 

I repeat the order of my set list over and over in my head. I know these songs. I know these chords. I know these lyrics. It’s almost all I’ve done for the past few days. Seven songs. I just have to get on there, play seven songs, and get off. Then I’m free to go home and hide away in my dark apartment alone until tomorrow. No, wait, I have to go to dinner first, then I can go home. My legs feel weak under me and I grit my teeth to stop the wave of nausea that runs through me. Why do I have to have stage fright? I’m a musician and a YouTuber that has stage fright. I resist the urge to fall to the ground and die. 

 

A flat note snaps me out of my worrying and I do a quick tuning to make sure everything’s good. Sure enough, it was simply me screwing up one of the notes in the pattern I had going.  _ It’s okay, it’s fine _ . My attempt to calm myself is futile, though I had to try. I feel so weak, knowing that more people watch my videos daily than the amount that’s in this crowd. Or, at least, I think. I haven’t actually seen the size of it yet. I feel my forehead, noticing that it’s at a higher temperature than normal. Wait, maybe my hands are colder than normal. Okay, I’m over thinking again. 

 

“You need to go to the stairs! The guy up there will give you your cue!” Kim gives me a sudden point towards the right side of the stage, only a few step away. I give her the most awkward smile ever and force my legs to move. It takes all my will to keep my legs from giving out under me. Damn it, I could have just a regular special effects artist but  _ no  _ I had to pick the job where I’m on the other side of the camera. Hunter follows behind, watching me with a bit of worry. I stand where I’m supposed to, listening to the crowd shout, signaling the end of Sarah’s last song. A man with short brown hair runs past me and up the stairs with a microphone in his hand. I guess that’s the announcer dude. 

 

“Let’s have a huge round of applause for the amazing Sarah Close!” A new voice comes through the sound system and the crowd reacts accordingly.

 

“You good?” Hunter suddenly asks me, handing me a water bottle. Ugh, I meant to grab one of those before leaving the apartment. I quickly check my arm to make sure that what I wrote down is still there, making sure that I didn’t forget to rewrite it. Luckily it’s still there. 

 

“Yeah, I-I’m fine.” I reassure him even though it’s a complete and utter lie. ‘ _ Fine _ ’ is the last thing I am right now. I am grateful for the water, though.

 

“Now, this next performer is a first time at Vidcon and, if I recall correctly, this is her first convention too.” The audience goes nuts, despite not even knowing where he’s going with this. My heartbeat speeds up to a rather terrible rate, knowing that I have to go on in the next minute.

 

“Hey, hey, hey! Let me finish!” Everyone settles down at his fake scolding. I don’t even need to see his face to tell he’s smiling. No, that’s okay, you guys can keep screaming for a while. Delay the inevitable. 

 

“This girl is known for many things but today she’s going to be playing some amazing music for us. Please welcome Days to the stage!” At the sound of my name being called, my blood runs cold. What if I forget the lyrics? What if I screw up the key?  _ What if they boo me off stage? _ I feel sick all over again. Hunter gives me a light push from behind, giving me at least the mental ability to get my legs moving. As slowly as possible, I start walking up the wooden stairs, counting each as I do. One; god, I’m not going to get through this without having a complete break down. Two; something’s going to go wrong. No,  _ everything  _ is going to go wrong. Three; why am I not just turning around right now? Four; because, even though I’m terrified and kind of can’t feel my feet right now, I know this is something I have to do. Five; I can’t let my fears and anxieties control who I am and who I want to be. Six; I’m still mortified and I know I’m not going to get over my stage fright in a second because I’m ‘not going to worry about it’. Seven; all I can do is force myself into this and hope for the best.

 

The eight step is the landing of the stage where I can finally see the audience as a whole. A brand new round of cheering roars up at my appearance and my eyes widen. I wish they weren’t so excited about this, it’s only going to make me feel worse when I screw up. I walk myself to the center of the stage as the announcer leaves off of the other side. Now it’s just me on a giant, empty stage in front of a shit ton of people. They’re all watching me and, because it’s light out, I can see them too. When I did theater, all the lights were in my eyes so I couldn’t actually see anyone in the crowd, this is completely different. I get stunned in spot, my gaze wandering over everyone. There is a mix of so many different types of people that it’s making my head spin. They all settle down, much to my horror. They’re all expecting me to say something yet I have nothing to say. Nothing I  _ can  _ say. It goes dead silent until three voices sound out.

  
“Yeah, Days! Fuck yeah! You got this!” I instantly look over to where the voices are coming from to see Wade, Mark and Jack being goofballs and shouting when no one else is. My vision seems to clear up enough to make eye contact with Mark. There’s something,  _ something _ , on his face that gives me a spark of feeling through the sheer panic. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that it was some sort of proudness. As if he’s proud of me for getting up here. Like I said, if I didn’t know any better. I shake it off and take a large gulp of breath. I’m going to need all the oxygen that I can get. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you how long it took me to actually get past the first part of this chapter. Seriously, I felt like I didn't have enough details or I had too many details but they were all really dull. Anyways, this one's finally done! The next one will be a little bit of stage time and dinner with the boys. I have a bunch of stuff planned out, it's just a point of getting there first! I actually have more planned for right after Vidcon than I do for Vidcon. I might at some point come back to here and rewrite a bit of it because I'm not quite satisfied with the way it turned out. It won't be anything too major though. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I will try to get another one up as soon as I can.


	13. Chapter 13 ~ Frozen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Performing is stressful but so are crowds.

“Uh, h-hey.” I manage out, my voice shaking harshly. I tightly shut my eyes at the roar from the crowd. My heart is beating so fast that I can hear it in my ears, just underneath the yelling. My own voice echoes back at me, making me cringe even more. I unconsciously look over to Mark, trying to put some familiarity into the situation. He makes eye contact with me, smiling and mouthing something. It takes me a second to realize he said ‘they’re going to love you all the same’, just like he did the other day. I crack a small, half smile, remembering his little pep talk. _They’re going to love you all the same_. It doesn’t fully take away my anxiety but it helps, just a little.

“I-I don’t perform often so i-if I don’t do i-incredible, please forgive me. I-I, uh, I-I’m going to be playing for t-the next half hour. My first song i-is Dear Maria Count Me In.” I give a short introduction, trying not to drag it on in fear my stuttering will get even worse if I do. I watch the crowd’s reaction, attempting to keep my mind off of overthinking my music. Knowing me, I’ll want to give up if I hear even one note out of place. With a huge breath, I begin strumming the intro of the song. The second I open my mouth to sing the first line, I feel sick. It takes all I have to have a single word leave my mouth and not throw up. I hate throwing up. The notes come out shaky and uneven, though on key. Even so, everything I do simply feels wrong.

People cheer after my first song but I don't feel like I’ve earned it at all. Usually I start feeling more comfortable as the songs go on. Not this time. This time I feel completely out of place. I feel like a child in a riot of adults that won't stop screaming. I feel out of place and wrong. No matter how many times I live stream, no matter how many videos I make, no matter how many people tell me I deserve what I have, I just don't get it. I feel like I don't have enough skill to be here, singing in front of this crowd. There are so many others that are more deserving than I am. Hell, Mark belongs up here more than I do.

Still, I continue on, trying to block everything out except my emotions I’m putting into each and every song. I check my cheat sheet on my arm between every song, just to make sure I have them memorized. As I reach the end of my set, I feel closer to uncomfortable rather than anxious and on the verge of a mental breakdown. I feel uncomfortable under the stares of so many. Even the sight of Mark, someone familiar, I shift uncomfortably every so often. I try to remind myself that there are only two songs left, not that it helps. I want to end on my slowest song so I guess I only really have one choice here. Dear god, I hope this works out.

“I-I have two songs left a-and this next one was requested by s-someone I know. Uh, this i-is For The Nights I Can’t Remember by Hedley.” My shoulders tense. I practiced this several times after Mark left but I’m still terrified I’m going to mess it up. It wouldn’t be good if the one song I do by request is the one I screw up the worst. The thing I hate the most is that the beginning almost completely depends on my voice because there’s a bunch of single strums. I turn to the side and start slowly walking to the left part of the stage, hoping the movement will keep me from feeling like a statue. I debate counting myself in, in attempt to stop from hesitation but discard the thought, know it won’t help. I’ll probably just repeatedly count myself in, not actually doing anything. I look down at Mark again, seeing him smiling like crazy in anticipation. _Don’t let him down_. Not thinking about it, I start.

“ _I see it in the way you would do, when no one else could ever get through. Holding back ‘til I come around. Time and time again you wait for me to come in._ ” To keep myself from torturing myself, I think about why Mark would ask me to play this one. I mean, it’s not in my normal style and I’ve never covered it before. Then again, people online constantly request songs that I’ve never covered before.

“ _And I do wanna love you,”_ I find my feet moving and walk across the stage as I begin the chorus. My body relaxes, just barely, while I focus on the meaning of the lyrics. The hope. The love. Anything to block out the crowd shouting the lyrics back at me. I doubt that any of them realize the fear flooding through my veins at this very second. That I feel sick to my stomach and that it’s taking all the strength in me not to run off this stage as fast and as far as I can.

“ _Me, I’m used to being tired and bloody. But you believed that I could be somebody._ ” My hand slips and I quickly mute the strings for a bit to catch myself. Against any bit of luck I have, it manages to be at a part that made it seem almost natural. I let out a breathless laugh between lines and keep going, trying not to think of how close that was to screwing up. _Just a few more minutes and I can leave._ I try to remind myself but, truth be told, I’m finally beginning to relax here. My heartbeat is slowing down just enough to make me feel a bit better and my brain is focusing more on singing the correct lyrics than the fact that there’s a crowd of people judging me.

“ _And I can, so I will and you’ll see your hero come running.”_ I’m doing fine. I’m not doing _amazing_ , but I’m doing well enough that I’m on key and have hit the notes right. I’m too scared to do anything fancy. I believe it’s good enough that Mark won’t regret his request. My eyes fall to the red haired man again. He’s doing a little dance in spot since he can’t move from where he is. The convention seems to have a section in the front specifically for YouTubers that are attending and those with higher up badges. Some girls behind the barricade are reaching out, trying to touch Mark, Jack, or Wade. They don’t seem to be bothered by it, though they aren’t turning around to talk to them either.

“ _And what if I never said to you I was dynamite. And what if I never told you I’m afraid to cry._ ” The notes get a bit more difficult and I struggle to keep my voice in check. Mark notices I’m looking at him and he reaches his hand towards the stage, his palm barely making it out of his sweater. He screams the lyrics with me and I feel my face heat up slightly. I can barely hear his voice over everyone else’s and my own voice. Even so, I can hear his deep tone singing it better than I can. Part of me knows that if I brought that up to him, not that I have the guts to say anything anyways, he would deny it completely. I think he thinks too highly of by music.

“ _And I do wanna love you if you see me running back._ ” This line has more confidence than I’ve had at any point during the rest of my set list. It also seems to have more emotion than I usually let myself show when I do my covers. My voice lacks any wavering and holds itself steady. I roll back on my feet, wanting to move slightly. I’ve finally stopped shaking, which is a relief. I don’t know why I’m relaxing _now._ I slow my strumming pattern, reaching the last line of the song. A tiny piece of me really doesn’t want it to end. I throw that thought to the very back of my mind, knowing that it won’t do me any good to think about.

“ _Hold back your tears tonight_.” I end, letting the last chord draw and drown out. A huge sigh leaves my lips as part of me wants to fall down on the stage and try to get my breath back. The crowd screams louder than any of the other times and I give them a light wave, finding the strength in my legs to get them to move me back towards the staircase leading to the backstage. I shut off my microphone, the reality of the situation hitting me full force once more. The fact that I began to relax at that very end is probably what increased my anxiety so much more now. With shaky hands, I frantically try to disconnect all the chords that are attached to me. The fact that I’m covered so heavily with equipment is making me feel claustrophobic.

“Hey, you did great out there! Let me help you with that!” Kim appears, causing me to jump. I didn’t even see her walk over. I look up to also see that Hunter is right behind, watching me struggle to get everything undone. He seems slightly concerned but doesn’t make a move to assist. Kim, on the other hand, reaches out, probably to grab the clip on my guitar. I flinch back, stepping out of her reach. I don’t want anyone to touch me right now. My heart is pounding so hard that I can hear it in my ears, above all the loud chatter. I can barely even hear the announcer cheer me on for my performance.

“N-No, I-I’ve got it!” I tell her, surprising myself that I can speak above my surroundings. Everyone’s too loud. It’s too crowded. I’m suffocating. I manage to get my mic off and put it on the table beside me. It takes about four minutes of struggle to get the wires untangled through my panic, though Kim respects my boundaries and lets me handle it. She only takes the equipment off of the table thirty seconds after I put it down. Finally, I put my guitar back in its case and clip all the pieces down. Without a second thought of anything, I grab my bag and guitar and bolt towards the building. A shout comes from behind me but static fills my hearing, not allowing me to make out whatever they said. Luckily most people move out of my way as they see me coming. Getting run over by a 5”1’ girl in an anxiety attack probably isn’t on their list of ‘things to do’ today.

I make it to the door and reef it open, making my way into the empty hallway. I take a few steps before my legs collapse from under me and I hit the floor. I bring my legs up to my chest. My guitar lands safely beside me and out of the way of anyone walking by. My chest burns because of my deep, quick breaths, which causes my lungs to feel as if they are on fire. A sudden burn in my palm makes me aware that I’m digging my nails into my skin and I quickly flatten my hands onto my knees. While this isn’t the same as the attack that happened when Mark was there, this one is just as painful in a different way. Even so, I try to tell myself that I’m okay. It’s just an overreaction caused by my brain. There is nothing that’s going to hurt me. I know these things, they simply don’t seem to want to process in my head.

The metal door flies open and I jump again. I get extremely paranoid and skittish while panicking. Hunter bursts through the door and immediately notices me sitting on the floor. His breath is heavy, though not like mine. The worried expression on his features lessens at the sight of me. Instead of yelling at me for running away, he walks over and sits beside me on the cold cement floor. I avert my gaze, feeling awful that I ditched him like I did. I didn’t mean to. I was just...not thinking straight. Guilt floods through my, distracting my slightly from my attack. My body is beginning to relax, thankfully. This is obviously one of my shorter attacks, only lasting a few minutes in full effect. Thank god.

“You can’t run away like that.” Hunter finally speaks up, keeping his tone as gentle as he possibly can in this situation. I’m sure I startled him when I ran.

“I-I’m sorry,” I whisper back in a childlike tone. I feel so small at this very moment. My breathing starts to even out a bit.

“I know you didn’t mean to, Days. You just have to remember that I have to be with you at all times. If I let you out of my sight and you get hurt, I’m in big trouble. Don’t feel bad, okay? Just know that next time you need to leave, tell me and I will lead you somewhere less populated.” For someone who just ran after a panicked girl, he’s very calm and relaxed. I respond with a small nod and momentarily take my beanie off.

“Are you okay?” Hunter asks, watching as my body shakes without a stop.

“I-I’m okay,” I tell him honestly. It’s just the aftermath coursing through my body at this point. I’m okay. It’s going to be okay. The raven haired man gets back to his feet and holds his hand out towards me, leaning back as if to avoid accidentally towering over my curled up figure. I reach out and grab his hand the best I can. Compared to him, my hands look like that of a little girl. Unlike most people, he doesn’t comment on it but helps me up. I manage to  keep my balance and I reach for my case.

“Please let me carry that. You don’t seem to be in the right state to be lugging around something of that weight.” Hunter reaches out and picks it before I have a chance to respond. I guess he realized I was going to argue with him about it. A soft sigh passes my lips and I put my hat back on. A sound comes from my backpack and I quickly realize it’s my phone sending me a notification. I slip my bag off of one shoulder and reach inside to pull out my electronic. One notification lights up my screen. Getting briefly distracted, I smile at the picture I have as my screensaver. My sister and I with the London Eye in the background. I miss her. Shaking my head, I open to what I was originally looking at. Sure enough, it’s a Twitter dm from Mark.

‘Hey, the guys and I managed to escape the crowd. We’re waiting for you in the hotel lobby whenever you’re ready. Don’t rush too much because Jack just went to the bathroom. Oh and I would be messaging you by text but you never messaged me your number!’ I can’t help but give a breathless laugh at this. I guess I did forget to send him a message after putting his number into my contacts.

“Your friends waiting for you?” Hunter questions, gazing at the small accidental smile that’s playing on my lips. I give another nod, not fully trusting my voice yet. I quickly make a tweet about the performance and saying that if anyone has any clips, I would love to see them before switching over to text message Mark. It’s probably more convenient this way too.

‘Sorry about not giving you my number before. I’ll meet you there soon.’ I hit send and turn towards Hunter once more.

“I-I, uh, need to head t-to the lobby.” He nods without a word and takes the lead back the way we came from earlier. It’s still very quiet in this area, which surprises me. You’d think with such a large group of people being everywhere, this whole building would be filled with everyone everywhere. Still, the hallway remains vacant until we reach where the badges are being handed out. Even now, the lines are almost at the door. I peak in to see that the line for the creator badges has about ten people waiting around. We must have grabbed ours at a good time. A different sound comes from the phone in my hand with another message.

‘Unknown: New phone, who dis?’ I roll my eyes and set the contact name to ‘Mark’. Of course that’s what he’d text me back. Why would I expect any more?

‘Days: Fight me, shorty.’ As poor of a response as that is, I hit send. I immediately regret it, but I didn’t even bother second guessing myself over it. Oh well, what’s done is done. I shove my phone back into my bag as we reach the entrance doors again. The lobby, just like the badge claiming area, is hectic and all over the place. I can’t even spot Mark, Jack, or Wade anywhere around. Maybe they left because it was too crazy? No, Mark would have told me. _Wouldn’t he?_ Just as my mind begins to push at me, I hear a sort of shout from somewhere near the area between the lobby and the elevator for the hotel rooms. My eyebrows furrow in confusion. _What’s going on over there_?

“I believe they’re this way. Stay close!” Hunter yells the last part over the screams of young adults and begins walking slowly closer to the commotion. As we’re heading over, he uses his walkie talkie to try to get ahold of someone.

“What’s going on in the lobby? Is there something we should be concerned about?” Only silence comes as a reply. Hunter lets out a low groan in irritation and stops in his tracks. I don’t blame him. I’m worried that if we get any closer without knowledge of what’s going on, we’ll get sucked into everything and I’ll go into another fit of anxiety.

“Alex, Peter, Nate, literally anyone! I need to know what’s going on in the lobby because if it’s not being taken care of now, it needs to be asap.” He tries again, attempting to keep me away from everyone while trying to see what’s going on. While he’s not completely alarmed, he isn’t as calm as he’s been over the past hour or so. The line crackles this time and a response follows, causing Hunter to visibly relax.

“There’s a bit of a - ma’am, you have to step back right now - fan issue here. Nothing completely out of hand but not the best situation right now. Ma’am, I said you need to step back! We have Mark Fischbach and Wade Barnes here with us and can’t get out. Peter and Sean McLoughlin were with us but haven’t returned yet. Hunter, we might need some help here before an accident happens.” The tone of the voice on the other end makes me believe he’s still a very young adult, maybe a year or two older than myself. Hunter mumbles something that I could only make out as ‘amateur’ before clicking onto the radio once more.

“Do not attempt to move the two before this gets under control. If they start moving, there’s a chance of a stampede. Nate, make sure that they stay behind you two and wait for backup. If anyone is available, take the long way around through emergency exit three to assist in calming a crowd situation. I repeat, any available assistance, make your way in through emergency exit three.” Hunter swings his free arm around my shoulder and guides me out the front door. Though I feel slightly uncomfortable with this, I know it’s the best way of him to keep track of my whereabouts and make certain I don’t get dragged down in the wave. He lets go of me as we head for the right side of the building and hands me my guitar.

“Do you think you’re well enough to carry this now? I’m going to need both hands free for this situation. We need to safely get your friends out of there without any harm to anyone involved.” I take hold of the handle without a proper response and my arm jerks slightly as he lets it go. The cut on the top of my arm stings at the feeling but I simply grit my teeth and continue on. The parking lot area, while filled with cars, isn’t all that bad crowd wise. It’s a good sign for when we need to get out this way again. Hunter’s muscles are tense and he seems mildly irritated.

“We told them that Nate and Alex couldn’t handle those two. We warned them but did they listen? _No_. They should have left the higher creators for those with more experience.” He huffs under his breath as we near a side door. I get the feeling that he’s rather irked that his advice wasn’t taken into consideration. In my eyes, his logic makes sense. Those with more experience should probably be in charge of assisting those that are inevitably going to attract more attention. He opens the glass door and holds it open for me. I quietly thank him, not wanting him to get annoyed with me. This side of the room is much more clear. There’s an invisible line between where the lobby meets the official hotel part. None of the fans are passing that line as the two fairly large guys attempt to block their path. At the sound of footsteps, the two guys off to the side look over at us. Mark and Wade, both with concern written in their eyes, watch us step closer. Mark actually begins coming towards me at a decently fast pace. What’s up with him?

“Oh, Days. Thank god you’re safe. I was worried with the fans that you would have gotten trapped with them.” He reaches me with his arms out as if he was preparing to give me a hug but drops them rather quickly. I resist the urge to raise an eyebrow at him and give him a simple shrug in response. Hunter’s obviously showed he’s capable of keeping me safe, which is comforting to me. I _am_ surprised that neither of the guys look very concerned by the mass, other than the worry I was stuck in it.

“Hunter kept me s-safe.” I tell him, looking over to realize that Hunter has joined the other two security for crowd control. They’ve already managed to get some of the people to slightly back off, though there’s a lot who refuse to. I prop my guitar to stand up on the ground and lean on it gently. Mark lets out a breathless sigh and fluffs his hair a bit.

“We can leave as soon as this is taken care of and Jack gets back. For now, we can’t really safely get past the fans.” He way he says ‘fans’ seems kind of off. Like he feels a bit bad. I can see where he’s coming from. If we have the same train of thought, he feels bad to turn them away like this. They’re just excited to see one or more of their favourite YouTubers and would love to talk to them, for at least a few seconds. Even so, I’m hungry and I’m pretty sure the rest of them are too. It would take them hours upon hours to get through all of these people in such an unorganized way. It would take them hours upon hours to get through all of these people in such an unorganized manner. They’ll have more chances to see the guys in the next few days. If it’s _this_ crazy during a prep day, how bad will it be tomorrow or the day after? Hopefully everyone will be in better control than they are now.

“Days, I really liked your performance, by the way. I was going to tell you that when you first got here but Mark beat me to talking. It was awesome.” Wade chimes in as the exit swings open again and another security guard walks past us to assist. It’s a lot better now. If a hotel guest really needed to get to the elevator, they could without too much difficulty. I give Wade a small smile, not quite believing his compliment but feeling rude if I don’t accept it.

“T-Thanks,” I resist the urge to say that it was terrifying as instead leave my response there. He returns the smile. Wade seems like a really nice guy, even though I only just met him properly a few hours ago. I’m glad that he didn’t take our first meeting as who I really am. It was a poor day for them to show up at my door. Mark opens his mouth to say something when a bigger pitched male voice interrupts him.

“Days! That performance was amazing.” The louder voice startles me as Jack runs in from a hallway to the right of the elevators. Jogging behind him is his security guard, who seems slightly irritated. Instead of coming over with Jack, the guard goes over to help. The green hair man comes up to me and forcefully shakes my hand, as if we haven’t met before. I let out a small giggle, my face heating at the scene he’s making. What a dork.

“Uh, t-thanks, Jack.” I giggle further as he mutters something along the lines of ‘my pleasure, my pleasure’. After a few more seconds, he gives me my hand back. I resume wrapping my arms around my case in hopes of avoiding anymore physical contact. As nice as these guys are, I’m still trying to recover from my anxiety. Once more, Mark looks like he’s going to say something to me. The second his lips part, another male voice shouts, this time from the crowd.

“Why the fuck does _she_ get to talk to them if we aren’t allowed to! This is bullshit!” Mark sighs in irritation and turns away for a second. Obviously he doesn’t like that he can’t say what he wants to. I do flinch at the tone of the teenage boys’ voice. The venom in it actually slightly hurts. I get that I’m not a _huge_ YouTuber but do I really look _that_ out of place with these three? Maybe I should have just pushed Mark away and told him I’d find a different way here by myself. No, I can’t let this bug me. No matter how much my anxiety shouts that my thoughts are right, this is not the time nor place to let it drag me down. Not while I just finished my first performance at Vidcon. Not when I have so much to look forward to in the next few days. _Not now_.

“Shut your mouth, scumbag! Days belongs with all the other YouTubers!” Another man yells and my eyes widen in shock. While I appreciate the guy, who I can’t see, standing up for me, those words really sound like fighting words. I guess the security notices too because they start working harder to split the crowd. With the amount of people around, god only knows what would happen if a fight started.

“What did you call me, you little bitch?” The front of the crowd is shoved forwards, some falling into security. My heartbeat quickens while I stare at the beginning of the commotion. I look towards Mark for some sort of reassurance, though he seems to be uneasy as well. The only thing I can do is pray that security can get everything under control, as I can’t get involved. Half because I’m sure everyone would stop me before I get twenty steps away and half because, let’s face it, I wouldn’t be any help. I can’t hold either of them back or step between without getting myself hurt. My stomach flips and I feel sick, my brain imagining the worse out of the coming scenario.

“You heard me! You’re a fucking scumbag who can go jack off in a corner somewhere! Just because you don’t know a YouTuber, doesn’t mean you can act like they’re a disgrace!” The right side of the front crowd gets pushed forwards also, showing that the other guy is walking towards where the other voice is coming from. Instead of continuing to get pushed forwards, the masses part from the middle, allowing the two to meet up. The one guy that was on my side towers over the teenage boy, who only seems to be 16 or so. Even so, the boy doesn’t back down and puffs out his chest. I want to yell at them to stop. To scream that they need to back down. They shouldn’t fight. I don’t want anyone to get hurt at my expense. My lungs seem to have given up on me. I can barely support my own breath, let alone speak. My eyes tear up but I refuse to let them fall. I hate crying. All of the guards run up as the shorter one raises his arm except one. Hunter runs back to us and waves us towards the door.

“In the interest of your safeties, you must leave. Whether it’s just this area or the building, you can’t stay here. We have to move, now.” His tone is urgent, which doesn’t help me in the slightest. My legs feel glued to the floor. While the others move to leave, I can only stare at the backs of the guards attempting to pull the two apart. My lip shakes at the sight of the violence. It’s my fault. This is my fault. I can’t move.

“Days, you have to go with the others. Let’s go.” Hunter tries to snap me out of my state, though it doesn’t work. My heart is burning but my legs are frozen. Seeing the clouds in my eyes, he grabs my case from my arms and pushes the small of my back towards the door. I stumble and catch myself. Still, I can’t take a step. Footsteps come towards us from behind me. I can’t bring myself to look to who it is. The guards are screaming that if the two don’t stop, measures will be taken. Dear god, make it stop. Someone suddenly appears in my line of sight. The bright red hair instantly lets me know who it is. Mark stares right at my face and grabs my hands to get my attention.

“Hey, Days, you have to listen to me, okay? Can you do that? Can you look at me?” He adds the last part when I try to look around him. My green eyes look into his sparkling brown ones. Worry is imprinted on his face and I don’t blame him.

“Good, that’s good. Keep looking at me.” Mark keeps his tone soft, as if he believes he’ll startle me. I must seem very child-like right now anyways. Scared, anxious, shocked. I keep eye contact, despite wanting very much to look away. His lips purse together momentarily before speaking again.

“I know you’re scared. It’s okay to be scared. But right now, we have to leave. We can talk more when we get into the car. If you want, I can even take you home and bring you food later. Right now, right this second, we have to turn around and walk out that door. Can you do that for me?” I hesitate. Part of me doesn’t want to leave. I’m the reason this is happening. I should be here to make sure no one gets hurt. The thing that makes me pause is the look of slight fear in his eyes. He’s just as scared as I am. Well, probably a bit less. I give him a slow nod and he sighs in relief. Gently releasing me, he turns me around and holds my one hand as we head towards the exit. Hunter follows, carrying my guitar with him. The other two are standing outside, as I can see through the glass door. I take small steps, making sure my legs don’t fail on me in the process. I make it to the door and Mark lets go of my hand so I can walk out. My hand touches the door handle and I freeze. I don’t quite know why I freeze but I do. I can’t get myself to open the door.

“Come on, Days. Keep moving. You’re almost there.” Mark’s voice reaches my ears in almost a whisper. The commotion going on behind us increases slightly and it sends a pang to my heart. He’s right. We need to leave. If something incredibly bad were to happen and Mark or Jack or Wade got hurt, I’d probably hate myself forever. I’m holding them here where danger is literally fifty steps away from us. I grit my teeth and shove the door, allowing the cool outside air to flood over me. I step outside and move to let the other two past me. As Hunter and Mark exit, Jack and Wade jog over to us.

“Is everything okay? What happened?” Wade questions and Mark shakes his head in response. I put a hand on the back of my neck, trying to find a way to ground myself. Hunter comes over to me and hands me my instrument. I quietly thank him, feeling as though any other words will only cause my voice to waver.

“Listen, I was informed that you have some issues but if we’re ever in a situation like that again, and you aren’t moving, I will throw you over my shoulder and walk you out.” Hunter warns me and I nod. I can’t blame him. If I was in his situation, I probably wouldn’t have even waited around _this_ time.

“Let’s just find the cars and go for supper.” Mark suggests, looking at Wade. I assume that Wade is in charge of driving their rental car. Wade gives a short nod and they head towards the front entrance, probably to get the keys from the valet.

“You two stay here. Jack, please watch her.” Mark tells us when he notices Jack and I beginning to follow. I bow my head, feeling my face heat in shame. I can’t help but feel terrible for the scene I caused and can’t even bring myself to look back and see if everything’s sorted out inside. I feel worried that I won’t be able to look away again.

“No problemo! We’ll be right here.” Jack’s tone is still amazingly hyper and energetic, despite everything. I wish I could be like that. I wish I could brush things off like they are nothing and move with a smile on my face through the bad. I can’t and I probably never will be able to do that. It’s a trait that I simply don’t possess. The other two disappear around the corner of the building and I lean on my case, like usual. Maybe it will give me some sort of unknown comfort. _Yeah, right_.

“So, has Mark told you what we’re doing for the stage tomorrow?” Jack asks, piercing through my clouded thoughts. I blink for a moment, taking in the scenery around me. The bright LA sun above our heads, the pavement under our feet, the sound of cars honking their horns over the sound of screaming fans. Just trying to ground myself to the best of my abilities. After a moment, I remember the question that was originally posed.

“Uh, n-no,” I reply truthfully. Mark’s never outright told me and I haven’t really bothered to ask either. I was too worried about my performance to focus on the Markiplier And Friends stage. Was I supposed to ask? Is there a huge plan that I just don’t know about and won’t have time to prepare for?

“Really? I figured he would have told you.” He tilts his head slightly to the side and a take a quick look to see if the others are back yet. They don’t round the corner so I look back at Jack. Hunter simply stands there, listening to his radio and staring through the glass door. His face isn’t completely etched with worry so I can only assume everything is going okay.

“D-Did he, uh, t-tell you?” I ask, biting the inside of my lip slightly. The edge of Jacks’ lips twitch into a small smile and it makes me tense, just slightly.

“Oh no, of course not! I just thought if he were to tell anyone, it would be you. He doesn’t usually actually tell us until we’re either right on stage or just before. Kind of a dick like that.” I find my lips cracking into a small smile, for some reason finding his words humorous. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s saying what I’m thinking or just finding it amusing that he’s calling Mark a dick for it. It does kind of suck that he’s not telling us anything until the last second, mostly because I feel the need to prepare almost everything ahead of time. I keep myself on a strict schedule for recording and posting to make sure I stay calm. At the sight of me smiling, Jack’s smile increases to show his teeth. His smile is really nice. It’s kind in a way that I haven’t seen from many people in a while. It’s the same smile I give others when I’m proud of making them happy. For just a moment, I believe I’ve made a friend. I brush the thought aside, not wanting to get my hopes up. He’s probably trying to get my mind off the scene that might still be going on inside.

“So, do you think you’re going to still join us for pizza?” Jack asks me, his smile turning into more of a hopeful one. I cringe slightly but try to cover it by fixing my hat. I didn’t even remember the supper that was planned. Mark even said something about it while trying to coax me from the hotel. It slipped from my mind. Do I really want to go?

“I-I don’t know…” My voice trails off, still rolling the thought around in my head. I look towards the front of the building, noticing that the other two aren’t back. What’s taking them so long? I hope they’re okay. Maybe they’re being mobbed by fans. Their security is inside. Shouldn’t Hunter at least have gone with them? Even if he’s _my_ security _,_ the other two are higher priority? I sneak a look at Hunter and find him looking through the glass. As if sensing my gaze, he looks at me and raises an eyebrow. Instead of voicing my thoughts, I give him a fake smile and look back to Jack just as he begins talking.

“Please think about it. Both Wade and I would like to get to know you a bit more before the stage tomorrow and I think being cooped up in your apartment after today will drive you crazy. I know I’d go insane.” His words surprise me. “Please think about it. Wade and I would like to get to know you a bit more before the stage tomorrow and I think being cooped up in an apartment after today would drive you crazy. I know I’d go insane!” His words surprise me. Not only were they mostly calm, they were also caring, even just slightly. Still, would I really be able to handle being around people for much longer? He does have a point, though. It might be less awkward tomorrow if we get to know each other more. I push up my glasses quickly, realizing that they’re falling down my nose.

“I-I’ll think about it.” I give him a small side grin. Jack’s so hopeful. So easily excited. So energetic. So...so happy. I wish I could be like that. Loud and outgoing. Sadly, it’s not in my nature. I’m probably doomed to a life of being quiet and locked away inside myself. I guess it’s not _all_ that bad. At least then I don’t have to worry too much about where a I am in a relationship and if someone is angry at me for lack of communication. That’s good, right?

“What do you like on your pizza anyways?” I give a hum, attempting to stay on topic. It’s been a while since I’ve had pizza. I try to avoid take out when I can and a frozen one is usually too much for me. I’d rather not be eating the same thing for three days straight.

“Usually just cheese b-but pepperoni i-is good too.” Jack gives a playful huff of disappointment at my response.

“How boring! Now I have the most important question in the whole world. Are you ready for it?” I give a small shrug, knowing that he’s probably just over exaggerating anyways. He doesn’t seem like the person that would seriously ask me what the meaning of life is randomly after talking about pizza.

“Do you...pause for dramatic effect...like pineapple on pizza?” I can’t help but roll my eyes at his intensity. Of course it’s going to be about pineapple. What else would it be about?

“I-I’m not a huge pineapple fan t-to begin with but I-I’ll eat it on pizza if I have to.” I give an honest response. Pineapple has never been my favourite fruit. It’s a bit too sweet for me. Jack gasps, hang over his heart. Well, actually, the wrong side of his chest. He proceeds to randomly roll up the sleeves of his blue hoodie and I give him a questioning look. I get that it’s fairly warm out right now but still. I watch him get into some weird fighting stance that doesn’t look very helpful in an actual fight.

“Alright, let's go.” He changed his right fist into a flat palm and waves me over. I raise an eyebrow, small giggles falling from my lips. Normally, I’d freak out over someone challenging me to a fight, I swear I would despite that I tell people to fight me as a joke. Hell, I freaked out about people fighting in front of me. It’s just that his position seems incredibly uncomfortable to hold. That and Hunter is standing a few feet behind, staring at Hack as if he’s ready to pounce at any second. I attempt to calm myself from laughing, even throwing a hand over my mouth. It doesn’t help much.

“Hey! No laughing! There’s no laughing in-“ Jack cuts himself off when his one foot slips and he falls to the ground. My giggling turns into full blown laughter at the look of shock on his features. He quickly pushes himself into his knees, shaking his fist in the air towards me.

“You win this round!” I can tell he’s trying to keep his expression serious, though a smile breaks through. I don’t understand how these people can make me laugh and smile so quickly after I have breakdowns. Maybe it’s because I’ve turned to their videos and their humour for years when I’ve felt darkness coursing through me. I’ll try not to think too hard about it and enjoy it instead. I’ll also keep my head about me and not treat them like some god because they have so many more subscribers than me and I’ve looked up to them. That’d make everything a lot harder to deal with when it comes to getting to know them. Jack hops to his feet and walks back towards me. Now that I think about it, he’s been slowly getting closer to me the whole time. Like he’s worried he’s going to spook me and send me running away.

“So, what d’ya say? Will you get pizza with us?” I finally call my laughter enough to think. What’s the worst that could happen? Wait, no, don’t think about that. I give a hesitant nod and he fist pumps, letting out a joyous sound. If there was anyone around, we would be surrounded by now. Jack is not a very subtle guy, to say the least. Still, I think he does it for dramatic effect because he calms himself, chuckling at the awkward look on my face. I was a drama student and I wasn’t even _that_ outgoing.

“Oh, Days.” He pauses, most likely making sure I haven’t drifted away in my thoughts again. It’s not my fault that I spent a long time in solitude with only my imagination to keep me company. Actually, it probably _is_ my fault but that’s not the point.

“Yes, Jack?” I respond, prompting him to continue.

“I heard you have a pretty cool tattoo.” My eyebrows come together, wondering where he got that information. I’ve only mentioned my tattoos once on a random live stream and I haven’t shown anyone other than my sister because she was there when I got them. She’s never talked to Jack before, I know that for sure. So then who told him about them? One’s on my upper thigh and the other is on my side, covered by my bra. The only way either can be seen is if I’m not wearing clothes. _Or not wearing pants_.

“ _Mark_ ,” I ground out under my breath, my face heating up insanely. I’m _so_ going to kill him for telling anyone. What a dick. Still my embarrassment overpowers any anger I have as I shove my face into my arms. There’s no doubt that he told at least Jack, and perhaps Wade also, the full story.

“Awe, Mark was right. It’s adorable when you blush.” Jack coos, reaching his hand towards my face. I slap it away, knowing he’s probably trying to pinch my cheek, which has to be the colour of a tomato by now. The sound of hushed chatter reaches my ears, drawing my attention away from Jack’s words. My heart beat speeds up slightly, worrying that it’s a fan that’s going to begin screaming and cause another mob like the one inside. I don’t want to deal with that again today. Luckily, it’s not. I let out a short breath in relief at the sight of Wade and Mark walking side by side with a rather serious look on each of their faces. They aren’t quite stern enough for it to be worrying, though Mark shakes his head, eyebrows drawing together for a moment. It makes me wonder what they’re discussing, not that I’d be nosey enough to ask them. Mark finally looks towards us, a small smile breaking on his face as he does.

“We have the guy bringing the cars around front! You guys ready to go?” He shouts to us, still walking. I give a small nod that he probably couldn’t even see from that far away.

“You bet your ass we are! Let’s go get some pizza!” Jack runs towards them, cheering loudly. I pick my guitar back up and am about to follow him when a hand grabs my shoulder. I tense and turn to find that it’s Hunter. I sigh, feeling better knowing that it’s not some crazy person. I still don’t fully trust LA yet, which I think is understandable. Still, I feel more comfortable knowing that Hunter is with me during this.

“I just wanted to remind you to message me when you get here tomorrow. Actually, message me when you’re five minutes out, just in case. And please don’t run away again like you did earlier. It doesn’t help anyone is you get hurt. Okay?” Despite his hard, stern tone, I know that he’s just using it to cover up any other emotions. I do it too. I give him a quick nod.

“I-I will and won’t. T-Thank you for helping t-today.” I thank him, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. It was way too chaotic for a prep day. Well, I guess I’m now prepared for if that happens again so maybe it was a successful prep day.

“It’s my job to do what I did. It’s my job to protect you and everyone else in that building.” Translation: you’re welcome. I give him a short smile and a wave, hearing Wade and Jack yelling at me to hurry up. I turn around and job to them, which is difficult with my lack of fitness and my guitar jerking my arm the whole time. As I catch up, we all walk towards the front of the building again. There are already two cars sitting there, waiting for us.

“You guys follow me but if you get lost we’re going to Pizza Romana. It’s about a fifteen minute drive from here on La Brea Avenue. I’ll text you guys the exact address in a minute. I promise it’ll be good.” Mark tell the other two, pulling out his phone while walking to the drivers side.

“It better be. I’ve been looking forwards to this pizza since I woke up this morning.” Wade teases, unlocking the rental car’s doors. Mark waves him off, unlocking his door and the unlocking the rest of them. I put my guitar in the back seat, this time on the floor so it won’t be blatantly obvious if someone were to look through the window while we’re eating. I climb into the passenger seat and put on my seat belt. Safety first. Mark puts his phone into the cup holder and we begin our ride in silence. I try to focus on anything other than the lack of conversation between us. I pick at my pant leg. I fix my hat at least four times. I redo my braided hair, realizing that it’s almost time for a haircut. Still, I can’t settle enough to leave it.

“I-I’m sorry,” I quietly apologize as we pull up to a stoplight. Well, at least I lasted for five minutes before breaking. Mark hums and looks over at me quickly then looks back at the road.

“Why are you apologizing?” His question wasn’t rude or taunting like I expected it to be. It was a legitimate question. I sigh, feeling the need to hide behind my hair. I take off my hat, leaning back to put it onto my bag that I placed on the floor in front of me. Then I let my hair out of the elastic I have it in, leaving that on my wrist. The fact that I just redid the braid makes me hate that it became pointless but not enough to keep it like that.

“I-I put you in a bad situation. You c-could have been hurt i-if someone randomly broke past security when t-the fight was happening.” I run my fingers through my long hair, letting it fall over my shoulders and to the sides of my face. I felt ashamed and guilty over the way I reacted and the thought of Mark getting injured because I froze makes me feel sick. I would have never been able to forgive myself for that. Mark checks the rear view mirror, making sure that Wade is still right behind us, which he is. The traffic isn’t as bad as it could be, which makes it easier for him to keep up.

“Days, you have nothing to be sorry about. Sometimes when shock sets in, people freeze up. I wish you had listened to your security and left with us in the first place but it wasn’t in your control. I wouldn’t have left you like that and I don’t think the possibility of me getting hurt was any higher because I came back for you.” He seems completely sincere but the regret bubbling in my stomach is saying that he’s just trying to be nice. I take a look out the window, not recognizing any part of where we are right now. Not that I know much of here to begin with. Part of me feels homesick, missing London. I don’t really understand why since I only lived there three years. Maybe it’s because everything was so much simpler there.

“I-I don’t know why I-I couldn’t move. I-It was my fault they started fighting in the first place.” The quieter my voice got, the less I stuttered. He obviously heard every word as he instantly looks over at me. Shock settles on his face while his brown eyes dull just a bit.

“Don’t say that, Days. You had no part in the fight. You didn’t edge them on. It was _not_ your fault. People are just looking for a reason to make a scene and they took the chance. Don’t blame yourself for other people’s stupidity. _Never_ blame yourself for your fans’ actions unless you specifically tell them to do something. Okay?” Just like Hunter, Mark’s tone is stern and serious. Something in his voice tells me that he’s seen stuff like this happen before. I guess he’s got a point, not that my anxiety will let me forget this guilt.

“Hey, come on now. You going to answer me or what? It’s not nice to leave people hanging, ya know.” Mark teases, trying to add a bit more humour to the situation. I don’t blame him, I’m pretty tense right now. Seriously though, he sounds like a dad. My mind flashes back to walking in the hallway with the three of them.

“Yes, daddy.” My mouth moves before I think. I start blushing at the realization that I actually just said that aloud. Mark starts laughing extremely hard. It must have surprised him as much as it surprised me. I’m sure he wasn’t expecting that. Something tells me he’s not going to let that go for a long, _long_ time. I put my hand on my cheek, just feeling the heat coming off of it. Why do I do this to myself? I can’t just be a normal person, can I?

“That’s the spirit!” Mark exclaims, still laughing. We pull into a side parking lot and he turns off the car, trying to catch his breath. His eyes are almost closed, the sides of his eyes crinkling just a bit. He’s showing off his almost perfectly white teeth with a breathtaking smile. He’s really enjoying this. Despite being flustered beyond belief, I can’t help the giddy feeling in my stomach as the fact that I made him laugh. I feel accomplished in some sort of weird way. It feels nice. A weird nice but still a good nice. I like it, probably more than I should. I like that I can make him happy.

“Okay, let’s go get pizza before Jack and Wade get impatient.” Mark looks at me, still smiling like mad. For some insane reason, I smile back to him. An actual smile. Little sparks of...something radiate deep in my stomach. Whatever this man is doing to me, it’s not a bad thing. I just wish I knew what it was. What about him is making me feel more alive than I’ve felt since I was a child?

“Yeah, let’s get food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter took so long to write. I've been incredibly busy on school work, exams, and my job. But, as promised, I did end up getting this chapter done. I really had to force myself past my intense writers block and didn't like this one until the very end. I hope you guys still enjoyed it nonetheless. Quick question for you guys: should I open up a Twitter account so I can post little things on how close I am to posting a chapter and maybe even little pieces from the one's in progress? I just thought of it because I did take so long to write this one and I believe some people were worried I actually stopped writing this book. Just a thought. Anyways, I hope this was worth the few months long wait. I hope you all have a great day! (Also, I didn't get a chance to edit this chapter so I apologize for mistakes)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! I know that this chapter wasn't the most exciting thing but I felt like I should probably get everything introduced pretty quickly so you know a bit of the character's back ground. I'm going to make this more of a slow burn book because that's the type of books I like to write. I'm not the master of relationships or anything but I like to put in some cheesy romance stuff so that's what I do. Anyways, thank you for reading the first chapter of this book and have a great day :)


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